#clone oc thud

[graveyard-stray]

Bedtime Story | Obi-Wan Kenobi x GN Reader

Synopsis: Obi-Wan tells the younglings the story of a courageous Jedi Knight who has saved him in battle quite a few times.

Includes: fluff!, battle, VERY small cameo from my own personal Star Wars OC, Sassy reader, Rex is a little shit but we love him, ONE use of Y/N, Clone Wars & ROTS era Obi-Wan, italics are flashback!

Not proofread

Word count: 2.4K

The door to the younglings common area closed with a thud as Obi-Wan entered the room, a soft smile on his lips as he brought the young Jedi back from their afternoon training session.

Obi-Wan wasn’t usually tasked with teaching the younglings but Yoda was a bit busy so he took up the responsibility without complaint. As they returned to the main area he was about ready to send them off to their quarters to turn in for the night. “Okay young ones, it’s time to head off to bed for the evening. I’ll see you all in the morning.” He said with a smile.

As he turned to leave the room he felt a small tug on the bottom of his robes. He tilted his head down to see one of the younger children tugging on the bottom softly in order to get his attention. “Master Kenobi…can you tell us a story?” Mumbled the small voice.

He chuckled a bit, “a story? About what exactly?” He asked, squinting down to get on the child’s level. “One of your awesome adventures!” Another kid chimed, this one on the older side.

Obi-Wan thought for a moment before it finally hit him, “oh I’ve got the perfect story for you all” he decides before moving to sit in a comfortable seat on the far end of the room. All the younglings quickly scurry to gather around him, sat all over the floor smiling and visibly excited for a tale.

“This is the story of one of the bravest Jedi knights I know. They have saved me more times than I’d like to admit!” He explains, leaning forward to further engage and interest the kids. “One of the bravest things they have done was at the very start of the war.” he starts. “We were in a fierce battle on the planet Felicia, a beautiful colorful planet that at this time was crawling with droids! And we were surrounded!” he began to tell the story to the beaming younglings

The battlefield is loud, Obi-Wan and You are surrounded by at least 100 B1 battle droids with seemingly no way out.

Obi-Wan backed up till he felt himself bump into you. His head turns but his body stays in a battle ready stance. “Seems like we are in a bit of a situation here.” Obi-Wan pointed out. You rolled your eyes at him, also in a ready stance. “Oh you don’t say!” Your tone is very clearly sarcastic and you lean against his back for support, your tired and struggling to catch your breathe.

“Sorry dear, just trying to lighten the mood.” he apologizes briefly. “So, you got any plans?” You roll your eyes again at this. “Do I have any plans? I thought you were the genius council member. Your lucky your pretty” you joked, agreeing that maybe a joke to calm you both wasn’t horrible in this situation, it always benefited you to stay calm.

He let out a low chuckle, “alright alright, we could always just charge and see what happens” he suggests. You shrug at this, “I mean we could but we are a bit outnumber” you point out. “Ya know we could-“ you started

You hear a voice that breaks you both from this side conversation and interrupts you, “why are you just standing there! Drop your weapons!” One of the droids yell. This turns Obi-Wans head sharply towards the source of the voice. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you it’s rude to interrupt people!” he said with a shocked tone before quickly charging towards the group of droids and attacking them.

You rub a hand over your face in defeat, “charge it is then.” You say to yourself before taking on the droids that you had been facing.

The two of you were doing a very decent job holding your own in this battle. Obi-Wan had always been very skilled with his lightsaber and general martial arts, his fighting always reminded you of a dance and this was something you admired about him. You on the other hand were also good with your saber but were a bit less elegant and focused more on the force. A talented force wielder you managed to rip plenty of droid heads off their bodies in quite a short amount of time.

Just as the two of you thought you were in the clear and safe from the droid attack, another wave hit. At Least two hundred more droids came at you from all angles and once again the two of you found yourselves surrounded.

“This is your last chance. Surrender or be exterminated.” one of the droids said, in their usual robotic tone. Obi-Wan turned to you, “I’m not sure we have another option.” He confessed. But you wouldn't give up so easily. You frantically looked around the area for anything that could possibly help you in this situation, and that’s when you spotted it. There was a ledge near by, it was high up but if the two of you could just make it up there you would be able to get away with ease.

You grabbed onto Obi-Wans arm. “Aww you know I don’t mind you holding on to me love, but there is no need to be frightened.” He attempted to comfort. “Dont flatter yourself Kenobi. I’m getting us out of this mess.” You said before tightening your grip on him and using the force to jump the both of you high into the air. Obi-Wan let out quite the yell at the surprised and you would feel bad if it wasn’t for the fact he screamed like a girl and it was quite funny.

As you managed to land on the ledge you both tumbled to the ground from the momentum and the fact that your not used to force jumping with another person. “God you know I hate flying.” He grumbled as he got himself off the ground. “Yeah, ya know a simple thanks for saving my life would’ve worked too.” You scolded. He chuckled and planted a kiss on your temple, “Yes yes, thank you for saving me.”

the two of you looked down at the swarm of droids below who were no frantically searching for you. “We should probably get going.” You figured. He nodded and hummed in agreeance.

Thankfully a rescue ship had already been dispatched and took little time finding the two of you stranded out on the planet. It landed nearby and you ran over just excited to get home and into your beds.

“Welcome back Master Kenobi and Commander [Y/N] .” Said Rex as the two of you boarded the ship. “Ah Captain Rex, never thought I’d be so happy to see your face!” You said with a grin as you took a seat in the common area of the ship. “When I heard the two of you were in some trouble I knew I had to come down and see the sight for myself!” He explained. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, “of course, truly insistent on our failure aren’t you.”

“Only when I’m bored” Rex responded with a chuckle. He leaned back in his seat as another one of the clones came in from the cockpit, “We are going to liftoff now sir. Are we heading back to Coruscant?” He asked Rex, who just nodded. “Alright, enjoy the flight” the soldier nodded before turning on his heel and heading back to the cockpit.

You all sat in silence for a moment before Obi-Wan asked, “How exactly did you hear about us being trouble anyway?” Rex smiled, “Anakin. Him and that girl he always hangs around were headed to come find you but I insisted they let me come instead. Told them they have much better things to do then clean up after their old masters!” He smiled. You nodded, “Ah of course, those two always can be found together. Well I guess I’m grateful for it in this instance since you saved our asses!”

Obi-Wan quirked a brow at this. “He saved our asses? Far from it, it was you who save us!” he said with almost shocked expression. “They saw we were surrounded and launched us into the air and onto that ledge you found us on. Without them we would’ve been toast!” He exclaimed.

“Oh I mean it wasn’t really that impressive I just got us out of the way is all.” You said humbly, propping your legs up on a footrest. Obi-Wan interjected, “and humble too, truly the finest Jedi you’ll ever find!” He praised. Rex laughed out loud and the two of you looked at his confused.

“God no wonder your padawans are so obsessed with each other, look at how the two of you act with one another! Like an old married couple!” He insisted. You both got a bit red in the face because, you basically were an old married couple. Of course you weren’t actually married but you might as well be. Rex didn’t know this, I mean how could he, but the fact he noticed something at all between the two of you definitely had you a bit anxious.

Obi-Wan shook his head, “No we are not, that’s ridiculous. I am simply thankful that they saved my life that’s all.” He insisted. “Anakin and Kaya are simply the way they are because they are both very strange creatures.” He elaborated. Rex laughed again, “well I can’t disagree with you there! Anyway, we should have a bit of time till we land so I suggest the two of you take some time to rest up, I trust you’ll have some meetings to attend to when we arrive home.” Rex advised. You agreed but Obi-Wan just sighed. His hatred for anything business related sometimes would out way his love of being a Jedi.

“And that, young children, is the end!” Obi-Wan announced as he leaned back in his chair. He was expecting to be met with claps or excitement but instead he was met with booing and complaints. “We want more!” “What happened to the Jedi knight?” “Who are they!?” were all yelled almost ontop of each other from the crowd of younglings. He was a bit taken aback by the reaction.

He threw up his hands defensively, “woah woah slow down one at a time kids!” He tried to calm the situation of the rowdy children. “Okay, said Jedi knight is fine! They are still a knight and went on to do a lot more good during the war and they still do good to this day. Nothing else to be said!” He answered definitely.

Another groan could be heard, “what was their name!” Asked one of the older kids. “None of your business.” Answered Obi-Wan. “But I wanna know! Please master Kenobi!” The child begged.

Obi-Wan just shook his head, “you must learn patience and to not dwell on such trivial things.” He insisted- which was really just his own clever way of avoiding the question. For some reason he felt like it would be obvious his feelings for you if he mentioned that it was you he spoke of, and he feared the kids mentioning his stories about you to you when they saw you. But much to his dismay….

“Ehem.” A voice cleared sounded as someone cleared their throat. All the children’s heads turned quickly to the source of the sound which came from the door to the room. Leaned against the doorway was the same Jedi Obi-Wan was oh so familiar with. “You telling stories about me in here Kenobi?” your voice echoed in the large room.

The children looked from you back to Obi-Wan and began giggling almost knowingly. He got flustered, “oh uh well the kids wanted to hear a story from my adventures so I figured…ya know we’ve been on a lot together so it was really inevitable and. How long have you been standing there..?” He asked.

You chuckled at his embarrassment, “pretty much the whole time. I appreciate the tales of my heroism though but you left out all the times you’ve saved me.” You noted. Obi-Wan turned back to the children, “see kids, as humble as ever!” Which caused the kids to laugh some more.

“Anyway it’s time for you all to be off to bed isnt it. Go on now! You’ve got training with master yoda bright and early tomorrow.” He said, crossing his arms and motioning with his head to the younglings private quarters.

They all groaned but shuffled away to their rooms, a few “good nights” could be heard from the exiting crowd. As the door to the private area slid shut, Obi-Wan felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to face you and wrapped his arms around you, leaning his head on your shoulder. “Gosh those children truly drive me wild sometimes.” He comments and you nod in agreeance. “Yeah well don’t all children.” You added which made him laugh.

“Didn’t realize you liked me saving you so much Kenobi” You teased, leaving a peck on his cheek. He brings his head away from your shoulder to look at you and you can see his cheeks go a bit pink again, “what can I say, after saving so many others it’s nice to be the damsel in distress every now and again.” he defends. “Yeah well if you ever need saving. You know I’ll be there.” You promise, putting your hand in his hair as he rests his head against you once more.

“My knight in shining armor” he mumbled as you two stood there alone for a moment, relishing in the peaceful times like this you got to share oh so rarely. “Well I think it’s time we get off to bed aswell.” You added, noting how physically tired he seemed after the long day you knew he had.

He stood up fully, “yeah your probably right, like always.” he agreed as he took your hand in his. “I’m just glad we convinced them to let us share a room, or all these sleepovers would look very suspicious.” He laughed. “Oh yeah- definitely!” You agreed.

The two of you walked hand in hand, the hallways luckily being pretty empty at this hour, till you made it to your living quarters. You both changed into some comfier clothes and slipped under the covers, more than ready to get a good night’s sleep.

[filamentlights]

Cage Fights, and Pipe Bombs, and Diners, Oh My!

Clone x OC Week - Day 6, What if...the Clone Were a Mafia? || Fox x OC

Event Masterlist

SUMMARY: Struggling to make ends meet, aspiring Olympic gymnast and part time cage fighter Sakki is forced to take a match that might end with her hunted down by the most notorious gang on Coruscant. 

Word count: 4.3k

Tags & warnings: mafia AU, cage fighting AU, cyberpunk AU, too many AUs, cage fighter OC, cursing, violence, blood, injury, gang fights, mafia!Fox, the biggest plot twist of this story is that the clones actually have money, aspiring gymnast part time cage fighter OC, cyberpunk setting, body modifications, graphic violence, Darth Maul is His Own Warning

“Ah shit.”

“You okay?” Ahsoka looked over in concern as Sakki hissed. She tried to smile, but it became more of a grimace as her leg throbbed.

“Yeah, ‘soka. I’ve just been a bit sore lately.” Sakki massaged her aching thighs, carefully avoiding putting pressure on the fresh bruises from last night.

Is it…” Ahsoka glanced around to make sure no one was nearby. Luckily they sat in a pretty secluded corner of the gym, behind the uneven bars. Ahsoka leaned in. “Was it a you know.”

Sakki grimaced. Last night’s match had been pretty brutal.

“Yeah. Some guy clipped me in the thigh when I was pinning him. Had a ring on that hurt like a bitch.”

Ahsoka patted her consolingly. The two had gone to academy together and then made it into Coruscant University with their joint dream of being Olympic gymnasts. Ahsoka, being self-aware nepo baby, came from a long line of legacy athletes: the infamously short tempered lacrosse player Anakin Skywalker being her older brother and legendary fencer Obi-Wan Kenobi being an older cousin of hers. Sakki had been lucky enough to catch the eye of Shmi Skywalker and be sponsored through her academy years and now in university. And though she couldn’t adopt Sakki like Ahsoka, the woman had always made Sakki feel welcomed among her family. That being said, only Ahsoka knew what she did in her nightly activities.

“And your,” Ahsoka cleared her throat delicately, “manager?”

Sakki snorted. Manager. Asajj would shit bricks if she heard her get called that.

“Did nothing, said nothing, probably didn’t even notice me limping outta there.” Sakki commented. Asajj was good at many things, mostly illegal, but caring? She’d sooner drink oil. Ahsoka bumped her shoulder comfortingly.

“Try to hang in there. If you win this competition then you can secure your scholarship for the rest of uni. Then you’ll be home free and you can never see Ass-ajj again.” Ahsoka pumped her fists, her voice deliberately cheerful. Sakki huffed and smiled.

“Yeah. It’ll be alright.”

Sakki slammed into the mat with a ringing thud. Pain lanced through her back.

“You’re more shit than usual, rat.” A cold voice from above commented lightly.

“Fuck off,” Sakki muttered.

“What was that?”

Sakki bit her lip to avoid saying something they’d both regret.

“You’re distracted.” Asajj commented, leaning down into Sami’s grimacing face. The older woman sneered.

1,000 credits. The fucking fee to even enter the goddamn competition that would decide her entire future cost 1,000 credits. Sakki snarled. Since leaving the gym, Coach Windu had sent out an email in his usual impersonal monotone about competition specifics. But what had caught Sakki’s eye was not the logistics of leaving at 3AM on a bus towards the venue, but a bright red text that read: 1,000 credit entry fee, due Sunday. No late fees accepted.

It wasn’t enough that she trained like a dog day and night just for the chance to participate. She’d scrimped and saved the past three months, and even swallowed her pride to ask Shmi to borrow some money for her competition leotard. Her apartment still hadn’t regained electricity.

Sakki screamed. She twisted and hooked her leg behind Asajj’s knee and lunged. Ever eager for a scrap, the older woman grappled against her. The two tussled on the ground a bit before Asajj eventually kicked her off.

“Get some water. I got a new job for you.”

Sakki took a swig from her bottle.

“What’s the job?”

“Saturday night. The Crimson. You’ll be fighting their home champion and defender.”

“What.”

“Fight starts at 8. Be there.”

Sakki couldn’t believe her ears.

“Again,” she stared at Asajj incredulously, “what. Are you insane? That’s the heart of Nightbrother territory. And you want me to fight their champion? Are you out of your mind, or do you finally have it out for me? Do you want me to actually die?”

“Don’t be stupid. I didn’t train you to get killed.”

“It’s the fucking Nightbrothers. Their home champion is the gang leader’s brother. Win or lose, I’ll get eviscerated.”

“It’s a 5,000 credit job.”

Sakki stared at Asajj. Five thousand credits for a job was obscene. She was lucky to make that in a month. Not only would it more than cover her competition fee, she could get new sheets for her mattress, pay her overdraft fees, replace her air filter after the smog flare up had rendered her old one useless, and she was tired of waking up coughing-

Sakki paused.

Five thousand was a lot. The rings never really paid that much because, not unless you were extremely high profile, because there’s always people desperate to fight for less and less. More and more young people being pushed onto the streets with no way forward except their fists. That amount of money was dangerous. Inhaling, Sakki narrowed her eyes at Asajj. The stony woman held an impressive poker face, but Sakki’s gut told her something was fishy.

“Asajj. I trust you. For better or worse, you still helped me out when no one else would. That being said, I think I deserve some truth. Exactly what are you getting me into?” She held Asajj’s flinty glare.

“It’s a personal job.” Asajj sighed, looked decades older. “I never explicitly told you, but I trust you’re smart enough to guess that I used to run in certain circles.”

“Yeah, you were something of a gangster. Did you scrap with the Nightbrothers?”

“Don’t interrupt, listen.” She ordered, making Sakki roll her eyes. “But, yes. I have quite a history with the Nightbrothers, especially their loath-to-exist leadership. Back in the day, we actually worked together a couple jobs. They were a lesser, subsidiary group of us. The Sisterhood.”

“You were in the Witches?” Sakki’s mind reeled. Asajj nodded sharply.

“Yes. I was going to be the next Matriarch. But they got too big for their own boots. Too arrogant so they staged a coup. There was a shoot out. We were killed.” Asajj was heaving by the end of it, but her eyes blazed. Sakki caught a flash of green in the woman’s blue eyes. A body mod. Various modifications were common, prevalent, in the galaxy. Even more so among the Coruscanti underworld. Cybernetic implants to enhance senses, a metal arm, hell someone probably got one to make their dick bigger. But the eyes were tricky. Delicate, almost filigree-like muscles that are so easy to screw up in one movement; it made it an obscenely expensive procedure. Only old, well-established families still used eye mods as marks of allegiance.

“I want you to fight their champion. Win. But not only win, you need to cripple Savage. Utterly humiliate him.”

“His brother will kill me.” They were notorious for their close brotherhood.

“No. Maul likes strength. He may rough you up for it, but you’ll be intriguing enough a mystery for him to take interest in you.”

“So?”

“So, he’ll call you up to his pretentious little office. Give a dramatic monologue. And you plant this in his office. They check all their patrons for any weapons or other prohibited items, so put it in your bra at the entrance.”

Asajj pulled out a device.

“That’s all you have to do. Do that, and I’ll give you the five thousand in addition to whatever earnings you get from the match.”

Sakki stared at the small listening device. She grabbed it.

“Fine.”

The crowd was roaring. Sakki’s head hurt.

Her opponent flared his nostrils. They circled. Lights, blinding white lights flashed in their faces. Her heart thudded from the combined energy of adrenaline and the screaming crowd. She grinned meanly.

“Give up,” her opponent rumbled. One thing Asajj failed to mention was that her opponent was fucking huge. A hulking seven foot something, he towered over her usually respectable 5’8, and was probably twice as broad as her. He was also an intimidating motherfucker for the crazy amount of body mods he had. Prosthetic horns grew from his head, full body tattoos that ran jaggedly down his sweaty torso, cybernetic eyes that glowed and probably helped his vision, fingers that extended into bionic claws, fresh snakebites along his bottom lip. It was par for the course for a Nightbrother to have an insane amount of mods, it was basically their calling card, but this man had an obscene amount even by their standards.

So yeah, she kinda fucked.

Sakki snarled, and lunged for his eyes. It was laughably easy for him to grab her arm, twist, and send her slamming onto the floor with his claws digging into her collarbone. The crowd surged with a deafening roar. Lucky for her, this brought her close enough to slam her leg behind his knee, making him buckle. She used this momentum to flip them and land two clean hits on his face before he threw her off. Her body flew until it hit the metal cage, and she thumped to the ground. Stars, everything hurt.

She looked around blearily. Her whole body ached from all the abuse. One thing that put her at a major disadvantage was that as an aspiring gymnast, she was forbidden from any sort of strength-enhancing mods. It was one of her draws as a fighter, being able to beat modded up opponents with only “pure human strength,” but that was for opponents who weren’t built like fucking trains.

Sakki picked herself off the ground. Wobbling a bit, with blue strands of hair falling out of her bun, she watched Savage get up as well. Grim satisfaction filled her, watching him clutch his cybernetic eyes and groan. She watched them twitch and crackle.

The sounds of the crowd faded away as Sakki refocused.

“Give. Up.” Savage gritted his teeth. Even though he could probably take her down now easily, he just stayed put. “You’ll lose anyways.”

He’s been letting her off easy this whole fight; not punching first, letting them circle to give her time to recover, telling her to give up, and in general pissing her the fuck off. She slapped the feeling back into her arms and readied to lunge again. His gaze hardened.

A spark flew from his cybernetic eye.

She lunged.

He caught her, of course, but that was fine. Using all her strength, Sakki slammed an elbow across his face until she heard something crack. The man roared in pain, echoed by the screaming crowd when they realized what she’d done. Sparks flew madly from his eyes where a few wires could now be seen poking through. After that, all she could remember was blinding pain as Savage thrashed her madly—barely even cognizant from the pain and sudden blindness. He sent her body flying. Sakki found herself, face pressed between the ground and the cage, staring into amused amber eyes through the crisscrossing metal.

Get up, the man mouthed.

She stumbled to her feet.

“You broke my brother’s eyes.” Sakki turned. The man seemed to neutrally observe her, but shit did she want to bolt. The door behind her slid shut, the lock automatically clicking in place.

Black tattoos travelled up in harsh, erratic lines. There was a gruesome artistry in them, that they drew your focus in to his glowing, yellow eyes. Piercing and unnatural. They flashed like Asajj’s, but they weren’t just decorative. She watched the gold flicker. There used to be talk about scientists replicating eagle-like vision in humans, but that had been shut down by the Scientific Ethics Committee.

“You get the expensive eye mods, yet both your brothers get cybernetics?”

Sakki had noticed, as she was preparing for the fight, a smaller thinner man with similar tattoos shadowing Savage. And similarly, his eyes were clinked and shifted mechanically, with only a vague pupil-like circle to indicate that it was meant to be an eye. Her bold—stupid—declaration seemed to amuse the man. Maul. The Nightbrother leader. The pocket of her bra, sandwiched under the pad weighed heavily.

He huffed, amused.

“They were not yet inducted to the Brotherhood when we stopped with the old ways.” Before they rebelled and killed the Nightsisters, is what he meant. Maul clasped his hands behind his back and strode past Sakki to look out the window.

“Sit,” he gestured at the expensive looking black couch. It wasn’t a question. “Refreshments?”

The plush leather squeaked under her weight. Beside it, a little push cart held a water pitcher and a single glass cup.

“I’ve never seen you in my club before,” he mused, in lieu of asking what he meant, which was why the hell are you here?Sakki took a gulp of cool water, soothing her raw throat. Her back and sides throbbed something fierce from being tossed around the ring. Not to mention the little gashes where Savage dug his nails into her shoulder. Sakki stared mournfully at her torn singlet, where the strap was broken from the fight.

“I’m used to fighting smaller rings. Safer for my reputation.” It wasn’t really a lie. Keeping a low profile by only taking small fights would keep her from getting too prominent, and keep the chances of her being a cage fighter from getting out.

“Why show up tonight?” His back was still facing her, but she could see his glowing eyes in the glass reflection. Below them, the cage where she’d just fought in sat.

“I need the money.”

“Yes, money is indeed a powerful motivator.” Maul went behind the desk and pulled out a small stack of credits and threw them her way. She caught the gleaming stack. With narrowed eyes, she counted them up.

“This is barely 200 credits. I was promised 700 for winning.”

He turned to her, his profile lit by the light coming in from the cage arena below them.

“Yes, well, consider it a damage fee.” Sakki’s hands tightened. He turned his back to her again. “Well, I am sure you must be busy. I have matters to attend.”

With that dismissal, Sakki slipped out the door.

She turned right.

Corridor on the right. Lay low. Asajj will do something to draw him out his office.

Out of sight from his office door, she waited. Her back pressed against the wall. She leaned closer and strained her ears, listening for any movement. A moment passed. Silence. Nothing. And then, she heard a click. Quiet footsteps. She waited until they faded.

She slipped back through the door before it slid shut. Now it was just her in this dark, creepy room overlooking the cage. Quickly, she dug through her bra and fished out the device. Running over to the desk, she searched for a discreet place to put it.

And then the door exploded.

“Where’s Jesse?” The man barked in her face, like he hadn’t just blown down a door. He had curly black hair with a few streaks of white among them, and he brandished a wicked looking pocket knife at her. Amber eyes glinted at her. He was the one watching her in the cage.

“I don’t fucking know, who the fuck is Jesse?” She snarled back. He took in her bruised up face, her torn and bloody singlet, and relaxed slightly. He looked pointedly at the device she was holding, making her scowl.

Then, two more figures burst into the room.

For a halting moment, Maul, and the other brother who’d tended to Savage, stared at her. Her, the man next to her, and the listening bug in her hands.

“You,” snarled Maul, and they lunged.

Maul’s hands extended out into claws. Like Savage, someone had extended and likely strengthened his natural nails to make sharp catlike claws that curved through the air dangerously. Unlike Savage, he didn’t share his brother’s courtesy.

Sakki ducked and came up with her own punch. Maul didn’t have his brother’s muscle, but he was fast as hell. Besides her, the man was fending off the other brother who was surprisingly vicious. Maul stalked towards her.

“You little rat. I knew there was something wrong with you. You were most suspicious. To think, you’re a little Fett spy.” He chuckled. Sakki caught the beginning of a maniacal grin. “You walk into my club, into my cage, in my territory.”

“You talk too damn much,” she spat, feeling a familiar thrill course through her veins.

He bared his teeth in a grin. “Oh yes, I will enjoy getting revenge for my brother. As they say, an eye for an eye is only fair.”

He fought like a goddamn cat. Claws first. Sakki dodged like hell, but they could both tell she was tired. Her movements lagged behind. Her back where Savage had thrown her into the cage throbbed. Maul advanced, making her jump back with each swipe. His eyes glowed. Predatory. He struck right, but she danced away. Her hip bumped against the cart with the water pitcher, and she could only step forward into his space. She went for his throat.

In her periphery, she saw the other man was exchanging blows with Maul’s brother. Something rumbled in the distance. Using the brief distraction, Sakki grabbed the push cart and slammed it into Maul, making him roar. She saw the other man bury his knife into the brother’s side. Without a second glance, they booked it.

Chaos greeted them.

People were running and fighting everywhere. A mob of people running for the exits while tattooed men brawled with identical looking tan-skinned men. One of them caught sight of her and her companion running and shouted something she couldn’t hear, but her partner did. He grabbed her.

“Shit, if Hardcase did something to the club then we better run. Now.”

They booked it for the stairs. They fought through the crowd. Sakki hit a skinny orange and black Nightbrother in the face, sending him staggering into a madly cackling girl with neon glowing green hair that was punching anyone who got near her, Nightbrother or not.

They made it up into the club that sat above, a front for the cage fighting. The scene was utter madness.

“What, why? What would he do?”

The man had his arm out, shoving past people to make room for her. The crowd surged around them. He tugged her into him, strong-arming through the crowd for the exit.

“No time, gotta go!”

She heard shouting.

“GO GO GO SCATTER-”

Something exploded.

If the odd stares were any indication, Sakki realized the two of them painted a pretty suspicious painting hobbling down the dingy streets. Maul had apparently nicked her before they escaped, and the gash in her leg squelched every time she put weight on it, so she was supported by the man with her arm around his neck and his around her waist. They had also made it out of the club right as the whole thing exploded into flames, and, while they were spared being reduced to cinders, meant they looked like they just walked out of hell. As they quietly limped away from the smoking wreckage, her mind still reeling from all the events of the night, something Maul said clicked.

“Shit, you’re a Fett.”

The man turned to her with a leery grin. His curly black hair had fallen out of their styling into his face. “Name’s Fox.”

Sakki scrunched her nose at him. Her body still felt like she was on cloud nine with the thrill of adrenaline, so her mouth moved before her brain could stop it.

“Well goddamn, you could at least keep your head down. I don’t need all these people knowing I’m with you. I got a rep to keep up.”

He pulled an offended look. “You’re a cage fighter.”

“Yeah but, I’m gonna be a gymnast. I don’t need a scandal about being involved with a kriffing Fett.” A notorious family in the Coruscant underworld. They mainly dealt in…security, but they had their fingers in almost every pie. Bomb, weapons, illegally strengthened bionics, spice, casinos; everything. And their leader? Unstable. Went off the rails and decided to clone himself with a couple crazy scientists who were shunned by the academic world for being unethical. She would know. Doctor Nala Se’s building on the Coruscant University campus was still up, though no one had used it in nearly two decades when it came out about all the disturbing research that went on there. She eyed Fox. Some of the remaining adrenaline was making her stupidly brash. “At least pop your jacket collar up to hide some of that face.”

Her hand around his neck moved to make the flap of his jacket lapel stand upright, but her movement was hindered so Fox ended up with one jacket lapel flopped on his cheek. She slapped the leather flap onto his cheek, trying to get it to stay.

“That just makes me look more suspicious.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Okay left here, and we’ve arrived!”

“This is a diner.”

“You think I’m gonna take you to my place? Buy me dinner first. Here. Now. I’m starving.”

Sakki collapsed into the red booth. A few patrons mulled about in the dark, early morning hours but they ignored the two figures. Flickering lights buzzed softly. A woman dressed skinny jeans that hugged her curves and a loose top greeted them.

“Two of my usual plus a milkshake,” Sakki smiled at the waitress. Darla frowned playfully, raising a dark eyebrow.

“Big spending? You win another match, sugar? You still got your tab running since July, Sakki.” Darla popped her hip, looking at the scruffy bleeding girl with gentle reprimand.

Sakki smiled blindingly. “No, I’m good this time. My friend,” she turned to Fox who was sat across from her, “here will be paying instead of me.”

He looked at her blankly.

“You do have money, right?” His jacket was *real leather—*real animal products these days were worth more than gold, with most leathers being synthetic—so she assumed he did. He inclined his head slightly. Sakki brightened, making her curly blue hair bounce. “Great! I can have my milkshake.”

“Oh and,” she called, “Darla, can you also get the kit for me?”

“Way ahead of you, sugar.” A bright red first aid kit appeared on the table. “And here’s some towels so you don’t get our booths all messy.”

“Thanks! You’re the best.”

“I know, sugar.”

Fox watched her leave with a sway in her hips. “You’re a regular, I’m assuming?”

“Yup,” Sakki popped the “p” sound. “Dex’s is the best place for cheap, good food. Especially after a fight, when I need the calories.” She propped her leg up on the booth, hands jittery. “Plus, they’re always super discreet since their customers are usually the unsavory kind.”

Fox eyed her tapping fingers and energetic smile.

“Are you always this hyper?”

“Nah.” She shook her head. “The adrenaline’s still running high though. I’ll come down in a bit. C’mon, help me with the stitches while I’m still up in the sky on stress hormones.”

Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Fox moved over to her side of the booth.

“You’re gonna need stitches.”

“Yes, yes, let’s do this quickly before I cry.” She shoved the first aid kit towards him.

“Alright, then.”

He searched through the bag, pulling out some isopropyl alcohol, disinfectant wipes, scissors, gauze, and some tape as Sakki pooled some towels beneath her bleeding leg. Finally, Fox pulled out a Ziplock with curved sutures needles. Spotting it, Sakki whined.

“Oh for kriff’s sake don’t tell me you’re scared.” Fox grabbed the bottle of isopropyl alcohol to disinfect the needles, also wiping down his hands.

“It’s a perfectly reasonable fear!” He took a disinfectant wipe and cleaned off her gash as best as he could.

“Again,” he drawled, “you’re a cage fighter. You should be used to this.”

“Yeah but like,” she twisted her hands nervously. “I can’t look.” He rolled his eyes.

“So you can stand getting thrashed by a seven foot giant, but not getting stitches.”

Sakki buried her face in her hands and groaned. She felt something touch the back of her hands. Opening her eyes, Fox had thrust his leather jacket towards her. He looked at her gruffly, “take it, I don’t want to get any blood on it.”

She grabbed it.

“You break it, you buy it, got it?”

“Yes sir,” Sakki snarked, and turned the piece of clothing over in her hands to examine it. The leather was beaten, but clearly had the shine of an item well-cared for. She spotted some pockets that seemed meticulously added on to the inside lining, even going as far as to find the same color thread for it. “La’anglitz Leathers. Year, 9214. Wow, this is real vintage.”

“Yup.”

Sakki put her arms through the arm holes, putting it on backwards to the jacket lay like a blanket on her. The sleeves fell down to her knuckles, the whole thing dwarfing her. She sniffed.

“What cologne is that?”

“Why are you sniffing my jacket?”

“Is that Old Spice? Seriously?”

“There’s nothing wrong with Old Spice,” he griped defensively.

“No, of course not! Hygiene should always be celebrated.” Sakki buried her nose into the collar and breathed deeply. Her eyebrows scrunched thoughtfully. She opened her mouth to make another comment when she felt the needle pierce her skin.

“OW, ow ow ow nnnneughhhhheuuuhffff.” Sakki squeezed the jacket sleeves into balls while she moaned in pain.

“Inspiring words.”

“Ffffffffffuck you.”

“Buy me dinner first.” His words were dry, but his hands were comfortably steady on her left calf. His amber eyes flicked up to meet hers for a split second, before refocusing on pulling the suture into place. His hands were warm.

She scoffed. “Okay whateve-oOOOOOHHHOHOHOHO WHY GOD.” Tears beaded the corners of her eyes. She shut them. She could feel the callouses against her shin. His left thumb began rubbing soothing circles into her ankle. “It’sokit’sokit’sok, I can get through this OH fffuck.”

“You’re doing fine.”

“How many more stitches left?”

“Do you want me to be honest or lie to you?”

Sakki paused, her face scrunched in agony.

“Hit me with the truth.”

“I’ve done one stitch.”

“Okay, progress is progress!”

“Out of fifteen.”

A/N: Unbeta’d, unedited, unbuttered; this shit is RAW. I’m already cutting it closer than I’m ok with for this entry, sooo there’s probably a million grammar mistakes. If u want actual quality, find this on AO3 where I can actually update it and clean it up lmao. I’ll leave a link once I actually post it there. Big chance I will return to this fic to clean up the ending and make her chemistry with Fox a bit better. But anywaysss, thanks for reading!

@orangez3st @clonexocweek

[hellfiresky]

In the Belly of the Beast

Contribution to @clonexocweek | Theme: Quality time

This one shot was written for Clone x OC Week, based on my longfic, Seeing Red! Unlike the main fic, which is told entirely from Tal’s (OC) perspective and focuses on her journey, this story flips the angle to Rex’s POV. Written in a stream of consciousness narration, this fic was designed to work as both a standalone and a complementary piece to Seeing Red.

If you’re interested in more of Tal’s story, check out Seeing Red here!

Summary: What starts as a simple dinner invite turns into a misadventure through 1313. Rex finds himself battling molten-hot soup, watching trash monsters, and nearly getting his skull cracked open - all whilst Tal lies about his identity, picks fights, and drags him deeper into the underworld’s madness.

Pairing: Captain Rex x Ge’tal Solus (Exiled Mandalorian bounty hunter OC) Word count: 7167 Warnings: Lots of swear words, some potentially gory descriptions, typical violence. Can’t believe that I’d say this but this one is not political unlike the actual Seeing Red fic! (Well, undertones still there if you squint your eyes). Pure crack!

Taglist: @msmeredithrose @orangez3st

Playing this song as a soundtrack is recommended. And this song when you get to the Umbaran Black Metal underground gig part!

Enjoy this illustrated and immersive fic!

Level 1313 was the last place Rex expected himself to be on a Taungsday night, yet it was his second time here, and for some weird reason, he said yes again to her dinner invite. Her. Yes, her. Ge’tal Solus. The bounty hunter currently working under contract for the 501st and the Coruscant Guard’s joint operation. The same one that made him snap because of her recklessness in the Southern Underground. The same one that sent his commander, Ahsoka Tano, and General Plo Koon on a wild chase across the galaxy - because, in her infinite wisdom, she’d sold Boba Fett and Aurra Sing’s location to every bounty hunter, turning the Florum job into a free-for-all.

This time, the invite was under the pretense of introducing Rex to nerf meatball soup - because Bug’s, her go-to fry-up joint, had added a new menu item. And she swore this one wasn’t as oily as their infamous nuna rice, which had knocked him out the last time he tried it. And yet, here he was. Standing in front of the hole-in-the-wall joint in Krezzi Quarter for almost an hour.

Bug’s Fry-up Joint (Source: Star Wars Outlaw)

He checked her text again. 0800. It was 0845. Where the fuck was she? Just as he was ready to cut his losses and turn back towards the speeder lot, a loud thud echoed from the alley beside Bug’s. An Abyssin tumbled into the street, groaning, before scrambling to his feet and bolting past Rex. Not far behind, a familiar silhouette emerged from the shadows - bright red hair, a worn-out leather jacket covering a mismatched Mandalorian armour, and a self-satisfied smirk. Tal dusted off her fingerless gloves, completely unbothered by the scene she had just caused. “And that’s for trying to steal my target!” she called after the Abyssin, who was already half a block away.

Then, as if remembering her actual plans for the night, she spun and spotted Rex. “Oh, hey!” The Mandalorian grinned, slipping her hands into her jacket pockets as she walked up to him like she hadn’t just thrown someone into the street. “Sorry I’m late. Had to say hi to an old friend.”

“That’s what you call ‘saying hi’?” Rex gave her an unimpressed once-over.

She shrugged. “Yeah. Real warm welcome.”

Rex shook his head as he crossed his arms. “And what, exactly, did this ‘friend’ do to deserve your hospitality?”

“Oh, nothing serious,” Tal waved a hand, “Just tried to jack my mark, so I had to teach him some manners.”

“That didn’t look like teaching,”

“Hey,” she pointed a finger at him. “I tried words first. He didn’t listen. That’s on him.”

Rex arched a brow. “And you didn’t accidentally break his arm, did you?”

“Pfft. No, just externally rearranged his guts. Probably won’t try it again.” She peeked past Rex towards the street. “Though, gotta say, he’s got some solid cardio. Should’ve asked what he does to keep in shape.”

“Tal.”

“Rex.” She mimicked his stern tone. “C’mon, let’s get some soup. You look like you’re about two minutes from turning around and ditching me, and I cannot have you missing out on Bug’s new special.”

The interior of Bug’s Fry-up was clouded with the scent of sizzling oil, fried garlic, and the smell of spices that could clear your sinuses from klicks away. It was the type of eatery that had no menus except the old (and faded) one painted directly on the wall in Huttese, no rules, and no patience for customers who didn’t know what they wanted. Tal led them straight to a table in the corner, slumping onto the cheap, mass-produced plastic chair. Before Rex could even settle himself, she was already tearing open a bag of spicy crisps with her teeth, scattering red flecks of seasoning onto the battered tabletop.

Not a second after they sat down, Bug himself, a lean Duros with sunken eyes and a grease-stained apron, strode over their table. “Hey, Red.” Bug’s voice was a dry drawl as he wiped his hands on a rag. “And clone.” Rex fought the urge to roll his eyes. He’d been here once before, and Bug still hadn’t bothered to learn his name. Bug leaned on the edge of their table. “Same as usual?”

Tal shook her head, pointing a finger towards Rex with a smirk. “Nah, we’re here for the special. This one needs convincing.” Bug finally turned his full attention to Rex. “Didn’t handle my fried rice well last time, huh? Too spicy?”

“I’ll be fine.” Rex bristled. Tal snickered, tossing a crisp into her mouth. “Famous last words.” Bug let out a shit-eating grin, tapping a knobby finger on the tabletop. “Two bowls, then. Extra spicy for Red. And what about you, trooper? You want it mild, or you gonna let your pride get you killed?”

Rex squared his shoulders. “Same as hers.” The greasy Duros burst out laughing. “You sure?”

“Oh, now you have to.” Tal joined his laughter, licking the red seasonings clean off her fingers.  Bug shook his head before making a quick note on his datapad. “Two bowls of nerf meatball soup, extra spicy. And drinks?”

Tal lifted two fingers. “Iced tea, no sugar.” Bug lifted a brow. “No sugar? What, you actually trying to live past fifty?”

“I’m not trying to die tomorrow.”

“You? Die from food? Thought you’d go out in a blaster fire - straight to the brains - before a bowl of soup takes you down.” Bug snorted.

“Well, add that to the math.” Tal quipped back.

Rex sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Can we just get the food before I change my mind?” His thinning patience earned a laugh from Bug before he shuffled off to the kitchen, leaving them to their own devices.

In front of him, Tal propped her chin on her palm. “So, you think you can handle it this time, or am I gonna have to drag your unconscious body back to the barracks?”

“I can handle it just fine.”

“You said you didn’t leave the fresher the next day.”

“I went back to the barracks at 0300, ran with Cody at 0500, and he treated me to caf. Acid reflux was expected.”

“You locked yourself in your quarters after that. Fives’ words, not mine.”

“That…” He rolled his eyes. “Was unrelated.”

“Right. Totally. Just a coincidence that you disappeared for an entire cycle after eating Bug’s food.”

“I was busy.”

“Busy recovering.”

Rex pressed his fingers on his temples, “Should’ve left you in that alley.”

“Should’ve, but didn’t,” Tal sing-songed, kicking her feet up on the empty chair beside her. “Because deep down, you like hanging out with me.”

Rex gave her a flat look. “That’s a bold assumption.”

“Yet here you are.”

Before he could retort, the not-so-charming wooden mechanical kitchen doors swung open with a loud creak, and a heavy wave of fragrant steam billowed into their table. Tal’s grin widened. “Oh, look at that. Our meatball soups are here.” Bug strolled up, balancing two steaming bowls before placing them onto the table. “Two extra spicy nerf meatball soups.” He plopped two tall glasses of iced tea beside them, condensation already gathering on the sides. Then, with a mischievous smirk, he slid two small containers of minced chili across the table. “Try not to die, clone.”

That earned a glare from the captain. But, of course, Bug ignored it. “Yellow noodles for Red,” he used his stylus to point at Tal’s order, then turned to Rex with a smirk, “and for you, first-timer, I mixed the yellow and glass noodles.”

“See? Bug’s looking out for you, giving you a bit of everything. That’s hospitality.” Tal watched him closely.

Rex looked down at his soup. The broth was an alarming shade of deep red as if warning him that this will hurt you, and you will thank it later. Floating on top were fat, perfectly round meatballs, nestled among noodles and crisp greens. But what caught his attention, the part that made his stomach turn, was the spoon resting on the rim of his bowl. A chunk of red chili paste sat squarely on it, waiting. Waiting for him. The very spoon he would be eating from.

Tal mixed the pooling red chili into her broth, watching as the deep crimson mixed into the already potent soup. She scooped up a spoonful, eyes fluttering shut as she took her first slurp. A satisfied groan slipped from her lips. “This is fucking awesome,” she declared, setting her spoon down. “C’mon, Cap. Dig in.”

Rex exhaled slowly. He had faced Separatist battle droids, fought bounty hunters, and stood his ground against Jedi generals. But as he lifted his spoon, watching the thick, chili-laden broth cling to it like molten lava, he suddenly wondered if he had finally met his match.

Bracing himself, he finally took the first bite. It was a slow burn at first, tricking him into thinking this isn’t so bad. Then, like an ion charge going off in his mouth, the spice detonated. His tongue caught fire. His throat clenched. His lungs betrayed him. He coughed once, then twice, gripping the edge of the table as he fought to keep his composure. Across from him, Tal muffled her laughter, watching the struggle unfold. “Good, huh?” she teased, slurping up another bite like she hadn’t just dropped him into Mustafar.

Rex, eyes watering, reached for his iced tea and took a deep gulp - only to realise too late that the lack of sugar did nothing to soothe the burn. “Oh, this is the best thing I’ve seen all week.” the bounty hunter in front of him cackled. Rex slammed his glass down, inhaling through his nose as he waited for the fire in his mouth to subside. This was fine. This was totally fine. He was a soldier. He had survived worse. Explosions. Blaster wounds. Close-range detonations. A war spanning the entire galaxy. Surely a bowl of soup wouldn’t be the thing that finally broke him.

“Good,” he muttered, forcing the word out through the heat searing his throat.

“Lovely!” Tal shrugged, utterly unfazed as she speared a meatball with her fork and popped it into her mouth. “Anyway, day off tomorrow, right?”

Rex nodded stiffly, still unwilling to open his mouth too much, because he was pretty sure even air would make the burn worse. He believed, that if he just kept eating, his mouth would get used to it. That was how spice worked, right? You just had to power through, let your taste buds adjust. 

Wrong.

So kriffing wrong.

He barely swallowed his next bite before he was downing more tea, then waving a hand in front of his face like that would somehow fan the flames inside his skull. “Good,” he croaked. “But fucking spicy.” Tal, sipping her tea like a normal person, snorted. “I told you to get the normal one.”

“No,” Rex insisted, voice hoarse. “I can handle this.”

Tal just grinned. “Whatever you say, Captain.”

She went back to her bowl, looking far too satisfied with herself, before adding, “If you’re not in a hurry to go back, we should check out The Wharf again after this. They got some new cool shit. And by cool shit, I mean baby dianogas in the water.”

“Huh?” Baby dianogas? Was this some kind of joke? He had just suffered through the spiciest meal of his life, and now Tal was proposing a casual detour to a place with live sewage monsters like she was inviting him to a game of sabacc? The absurdity of it all sank in. There he was - Captain Rex of the 501st, battle-hardened soldier, second-in-command to Anakin fucking Skywalker - sitting in a dingy, grease-coated hole-in-the-wall on Level 1313, having a meal that was actively trying to kill him, while a bounty hunter with zero regard for common sense suggested a nightcap featuring baby trash octopus. He stared at her.

Tal, unbothered, casually dipped a meatball into the broth, not even looking up.

“…Why?” he finally asked, voice still slightly strained.

Tal shrugged. “They’re cute.”

Rex had no words. His eyebrows shot up, then dropped just as fast, before he gave a single nod. “Very well. We’ll visit the dianoga.” Tal’s entire face lit up like a kid on Life Day. She clenched her fist, punching the air. “Yes!”

“You are way too excited about this.”

“You don’t get it, Rex,” her charcoal eyes were sparkling with enthusiasm. “They got the tiny ones now. Like, palm-sized. Wriggly. Lil’ baby tentacle blobs.” She held up her hands, miming something vaguely gelatinous. “I saw one last week and I swear, it looked me dead in the eyes before it went full ‘sploosh’ back into the water. Adorable.”

Rex stared at her. “You have a very… unique definition of adorable.”

“Pfft, says the guy who names his weapons like they’re a bunch of tookas.”

“That’s different,” he argued.

“How?”

“They’re sentimental, and they’re not some creatures who live in sewage.”

Tal rolled her eyes. “First of all, The Wharf isn’t sewage, it’s waterfront property. Second, these dianogas are babies. Untainted. Pure.” She slurped her nerf meatball soup clean. “They have yet to know the horrors of this cruel world.”

Rex pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tal.”

“Rex.”

“This is the dumbest conversation I’ve had all week.”

“And that’s exactly why going to levels under 1000 is basically suicide," Tal was saying. Rex wasn’t really listening. Well, he was, but only partially. He had bigger concerns, like the fact that his stomach still felt like it was lined with molten slag from the soup, and the fact that Krezzi Quarter was probably the closest thing to an active war zone he’d walked through on Coruscant.

They’d been walking for a while now, taking the long route to The Wharf. The meatball soup had done things to him, and Tal, in all her wisdom, had declared that a walk was necessary to avoid "food coma in a gutter." Rex didn't even argue.

Krezzi Quarter was... grimy, to put it nicely. It was dark. Not only because of the poor lighting - but also as a feeling - like the streetlights had given up trying. Most of the public holobooths were either shattered or barely working, sending out distorted messages that no one cared to fix. Feral tookas scattered at their feet, chasing each other between heaps of trash and old mechanical parts he didn’t even want to find out. And the people? They looked dangerous. Then again, so did the bounty hunter walking beside him.

Rex wasn’t new to the lower levels - he’d been here several times before. Well, only once to Level 1313, but this was different. Back then, they’d gone straight to The Wharf. No detours, no casual sightseeing. But now, bloated on spicy soup and trapped in whatever adventure she had planned next, he was getting the full Level 1313 experience. He adjusted his vambrace, scanning the street. “What’s under Level 1000?”

“Ever heard of Coruscani ogres? Cthon? Corridor ghouls?” she kicked a stray cigarra butt down the cracked pavement.

“What the fuck?”

“Precisely.”

Rex narrowed his eyes at her. She didn’t elaborate, just let the words sit there like some cryptic horror story. He knew she was messing with him, but he also knew Tal well enough by now to understand that if she was saying it in that mischievous tone, it was because something was actually down there.

He was still processing that when Tal suddenly broke into a jog towards a dark alley. “Oh, hell yeah!” 

Rex’s instincts flared. He almost reached for the pistol, because of course he wouldn’t let himself walk around unarmed with a bounty hunter in a district where people would stab you for looking at them the wrong way, when he realised she wasn’t running towards someone. She was running toward something.

And then he saw it. A vending machine. A fully stocked, glowing-in-the-dark, fully functioning vending machine, tucked into the corner of an alley that looked like it had never seen a sanitation droid in its life.

Vending machine corner (Source: Stray)

Tal was vibrating with excitement. "Oh, you wizard," she whispered in awe, cracking her knuckles. Rex stared at her, then at the machine. Then back at her. “It’s a vending machine.”

“You still don’t get it.” Tal turned to him, looking deeply, profoundly offended. 

“No, I really don’t.”

“First rule of the Underworld, Rex. Vending machines are not just vending machines.”

Rex felt something cold settle in his gut. “Yep. You’ve done this before.”

She winked. “Hasamadhi Warehouse District. You remember.”

Oh, he remembered. Because that time, she had been on a mission. A job to find a cold hard proof of Rush Clovis’ involvement with the Separatists. It was her first major mission with the GAR. And in the middle of it, she’d pulled some shit exactly like this - pressing random codes into an old vending machine in the warehouse, like she was buying a fucking snack, only for it to spit out a hidden cache with a burner datapad inside. That also happened to contain an active bounty. The mission was hell - she worked triple jobs all at once, for the GAR, for the Pykes, and for whatever target she received from a similar vending machine. And, of course, she was jeopardising the mission. It almost got her killed. And Rex? Oh he was fucking pissed.

But now she wasn’t on a mission. Now, she was just doing this for fun on their not-date. And instead of being mad, he just sighed. “Tell me you at least checked this one for explosives.”

She patted the machine fondly. “Nah, this one’s just storage.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

She cracked her knuckles again, fingers hovering over the keypad. “Alright, baby, let’s see what you’ve got.” 

And then she started pressing combinations. The first one got her nothing - just a sad little beep and an "Out of Stock" sign flashing on the little screen. She tilted her head. "Alright, playing hard to get, huh?" More keystrokes. The machine whirred, grumbling like a droid being woken up from deep sleep. A drink option blinked to life, Lava Fizz. 

Tal made a face. “Eugh. Try again.” She keyed in a new sequence, fingers moving fast, her brows furrowed in concentration. Rex crossed his arms. “This feels illegal.”

“Only if you get caught by the cops.”

“That is not reassuring.”

“Tell that to Fox.”

Another beep. The screen glitched, lines of static filling its surface. 

Click.

The panel slid open. But instead of a drink, a small, burner datapad sat inside the compartment. Tal’s grin stretched wide. “Oh, jackpot.”

Rex ran a hand down his face. “Of course.” 

The way-too-excited Mandalorian plucked the datapad out, flipping it over in her palm. Old model, worn casing. She powered it on, and Rex watched as a grainy holo flickered to life - a face. Human. Mid-forties. Face like he’d seen too many fights and lost most of them. A small bounty tag flashing above it. Tal whistled. “Someone stashed a bounty in here. Five hundred. Nice.”

“Nice,�� Rex echoed dryly, “is not the word I’d use.” Tal ignored him, she scrolled through the details. “Low-tier scoundrel. Debt fraud, minor racketeering… Huh. This one’s fresh. Posted a few hours ago.” She tilted the screen toward him. “He’s still on-planet.”

Rex narrowed his eyes. “You’re not seriously thinking of going after him right now.”

“Nah, I don’t work for less than five thousand. I could sell this info, though. Call it finder’s tax.” Tal laughed.

“Tal.”

She grinned, shutting the datapad off and tucking it into her jacket. “Relax, Rex. Not everything I do is reckless.”

He glared at her.

She rolled her eyes. “Anymore.”

Rex paced around for a moment. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… can we just go look at the fucking baby dianogas now?”

Tal beamed. “Now that’s the spirit. Wharf time!”

Level 1313 stretched ahead of them in an endless sprawl of decay. There was no sky here, no real distinction between night and day - just a sunless abyss, permanently drenched in the sickly glow of artificial light. Everything felt humid, yet it wasn’t hot, nor was it cold. It was almost like the whole level was sweating. Overhead, power lines and sewage pipes tangled like vines, giant billboards reflecting their endless ads onto every reflective surface. Rex had never really seen the kind of ads down here anywhere else. Most of them were desperate shit. Black-market cybernetics, unregulated recreational stims, debt relief scams under the guise of organ market.

YOUR LUNGS COULD BE WORTH 20,000 CREDITS! NEW IDENTITY, CLEAN RECORD, NO QUESTIONS ASKED! WANT TO FEEL LIKE A JEDI? TRY SHABOO!

Rex grimaced, pushing past a narrow alley that reeked of piss. A rat-like scavenger droid skittered over a pile of junk, glowing red optics flickering as it scanned for anything valuable. Tal, meanwhile, strolled through the grime like she belonged here. Which, she did. He never really noticed it, but it was evident now that her disobedient body language (that had always pissed him off) screamed, I see you, I hear you, and I will stab you if you try me.

And people did look. Not at him, the obvious choice. You know, for having that face.

At her.

Bounty hunters, street rats, info brokers - Rex saw them all clock her as she passed. Not with hostility. More like... recognition. Like she was part of the ecosystem. Rex had spent his whole damn life swimming in a sea of identical faces. He knew what it meant to be invisible, to be part of something bigger, something uniform. Tal was the opposite. She walked into a room, and people noticed. Which was not always a good thing. He kept close, dragging his gaze to every doorway, every alley. He wasn’t paranoid, but he knew damn well that this was the kind of place where people disappeared for stupid reasons, and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with some dumbass who thought they could make creds off of a clone captain.

Tal groaned beside him. “You know, I can feel you watching my six, and while I appreciate the concern, Rex, I’ve survived this long without a bodyguard.”

Rex huffed. “Yeah, no thanks to your decision-making skills.”

“Oh, come on.” She glared. “We haven’t even been shot at tonight.”

“Yet.”

The Wharf, 1313 (Source: The Clone Wars)

A few more blocks, and the atmosphere shifted. No, not cleaner, definitely not. Nothing in 1313 was clean! But it smelled less like piss, and more like salt and rust. The scent of water. They were getting close.

The Wharf wasn’t a real wharf, not in the way the upper levels thought of it. No ships docked here. No open sky, no crashing waves. This was just another corner of Coruscant’s endless underworld, a sunken, flooded district that had been repurposed into a trade hub and food court.  Below them, dark water sloshed against the support beams, black and bottomless, reflecting the neon haze of floating billboards. 

Rex had been here once before, and he hadn’t exactly been thrilled about it then, either. Water in the Underworld was never a good sign. Standing water meant rot, rust, things that lived where they shouldn’t. The fact that people actually came here for fun still felt like a cosmic joke. Tal, of course, had zero such reservations. She brought him there once, and now, again. It seemed like her favourite place to hangout.  

The red-haired woman bent over the railing, peering down at the water like she was searching for something. Rex stopped beside her, arms crossed. “Alright. We’re here. Now tell me again, why are baby dianogas part of your itinerary?” She turned to him with a shit-eating grin. “Because....”

She whistled, and tossed a crumpled wrapping flimsi into the water. Rex had no idea where she pulled it from, which was already suspicious enough, but he was too busy watching the water to question it. At first, nothing happened. Then, a ripple. Then, movement. Tiny, pale tendrils broke the surface, wriggling towards the cracker. Dozens of them. Maybe more. Rex took a step back. “What the fuck?” Tiny trash cephalopods. Because why the fuck not?

Tal squatted down, resting her chin in her hands as she watched the little creatures flail over each other in excitement. “Look at ‘em. Perfect little garbage monsters. So small. So stupid.”

“They eat trash.”

“Yeah, and so do I. We have a bond.”

“Why do you sound proud of that?”

“Because this is the good stuff. The real Lower Coruscant experience. Not just the spice dens. Not just the shootouts. This.” Tal flailed her arms at the scene before them.  “The weird little corners. The places no one else looks.”

Rex looked down at the writhing pile of tentacles. Then back at her. And, against all better judgment, he squatted down next to her. “…So what, you bring people here on dates?”

Tal barked out a laugh. “Are we on a date?”

Rex didn’t dignify that with an answer. He just averted his eyes back at the tiny trash monsters, wondering how the hell his night had ended up here. This whole night had been fucking ridiculous. But for some reason - standing here, no, squatting here, soaked in the glow of a city that never slept, beside a bounty hunter who should’ve driven him insane by now was oddly freeing.

"And are we just gonna sit here watching these suckers until the sun rises in the surface levels?" Rex elbowed her, but Tal barely reacted, too busy tossing another crumpled flimsi into the water. She had been at this for a while. From what he could tell, the flimsi wasn’t even coming from one of her pockets anymore. Yes, it was pockets, plural. He was impressed by the number of useless shit she was carrying. Receipts, old wrappers, something that looked suspiciously like a speeder violation ticket. Maker. She was literally cleaning out her pockets by feeding trash to the trash monsters.

And, honestly? It was interesting. Up in the surface levels, there were campaigns everywhere about environmental hazards - flimsi and plastic waste, ocean pollution. Those pristine tropical planets, the luxury spots like Scarif and Spira? Their glimmering waters were choking on the same kind of garbage Tal was feeding to these little fuckers. And yet, here… Here, these creatures ate it. Here, it wasn’t waste, it was food. And Maker knew how big these suckers got when they were fully grown.

Tal tossed a handful of scrap into the water. “I mean, Leea did cancel on me.” Rex’s brows shot up, noticing the blandness of it. Normally, she was always eager to talk about her Zeltron best friend, dragging him into some ridiculous stories about their misadventures. But this was different. “She and Donz just got engaged,” Tal continued, still watching the rippling water. “So naturally, she brought him to Zeltros to meet the parents.” She threw another piece of crumpled flimsi into the water, a little harder this time. “Can you imagine? An assassin bringing home her underworld slicer boyfriend to her rich-as-fuck parents?”

“Uh—” Rex looked away, searching for something to say. Something that wouldn’t set off whatever landmine was buried in that sentence. Tal grinned, cutting his slowly spiraling thoughts. “I know, right? Like, ‘Hi Mum, hi Dad, this is my fiancé - he hacks high-security systems and once shut down an entire prison block for a bet.’” She chuckled, finally looking at him. “And her mum’s a plastic surgeon. Dad’s a party organiser.”

“Sounds like a nightmare.” Rex offered her a smile. “Oh, you know it is.” Tal practically pulled the inner linings of her pocket and let the crumbles inside sprinkled down the water. “I mean, Zeltron families are already wild, but this? A human ex-Blackout slicer and a professional hitwoman sitting at a dinner table with a family whose biggest worry is what vintage to pair with their sunset yacht brunch?” She whistled. “I bet the whole thing’s a fuckin’ holonovela.”

“Yeah. Sounds like it.” Rex murmurred. But he wasn’t thinking about Leea. He was thinking about her. The way she said it, the way her tone momentarily changed out of something that he couldn’t quite grasp. He was sure that she was happy for Leea. Of course she was. But still.

Zeltros wasn’t this. Zeltros was soft. Warm. A place where you could be someone else, or maybe just be yourself without worrying about where your next paycheck was coming from, or which scumbag employer was gonna put a blaster to your head over a deal gone bad. And although Tal belonged here, in the dark corners of Coruscant, it didn’t mean she never thought about there. And maybe it stung a little to watch someone else take a step towards something she never even let herself consider.

Rex kept the thoughts to himself. Then, Tal violently moved her shoulders like she was physically shaking something off. “Anyway.” She kicked her boot against his. “What did she cancel on me for?”

“I don’t know. What did she cancel on you for?” He was relieved at the change of topic.

“Ashes of Kuat.” She grinned.

Rex looked behind him, and back at her again. “Huh?”

She rolled her eyes. “You ever listen to them?”

He squinted. “Sounds like a holodocumentary.”

Tal gasped, covering her dramatic jaw drop with her palm. “Dude, I will not stand for this slander. Umbaran black metal. Educate yourself.”

All his life, Rex had only known one thing about the Umbarans. Separatist sympathisers. Every single one of them. Umbara had left the Republic the second their senator, Mee Deechi, was assassinated. Then they had turned their entire fucking planet into a fortress - shut the Republic out, opened their arms to the Confederacy, and became one of their most brutal strongholds. And now Tal was telling him there were Umbarans down here? Not as warriors, not as infiltrators, but as… Musicians? He squinted. “Are you sure this is safe?”

“Duh.” She kept walking, hands in her pockets like they weren’t heading towards a den full of people who, under normal circumstances, would be trying to kill him. “Last time I went to a gig, Fox disbanded it because he thought there was a CIS sympathiser.”

Rex chuckled, elbowing her. “And that’s where we found you.” Tal grinned. “Yeah, yeah. Unrelated.”

The deeper they went, the louder it got. Not just the sound, but the literal vibrations! He could feel the bass, the low, guttural thrum of the sound building, growing, pulsing underneath the surface. 

Down here, in an underground venue in the most infamous level of the Underworld, nobody looked Republic. The crowd thickened as they approached the entrance of the venue, a basement of a basement of a fucking basement, wedged between a speeder chop-shop and a cybernetics clinic with a No Refunds sign hanging on its door.

Gig entrance (Source: Star Wars Outlaw)

There was a metal staircase leading down into the dark, a lanky Umbaran bouncer standing at the top, arms crossed, decked in leather jacket and some advanced weapons that he had never seen before. Advanced as shit. Exotic. Rex could already feel eyes on him. Meanwhile, Tal was completely fucking unbothered. She stepped up to the bouncer like she was greeting an old friend, flashing a two-fingered salute. “Moshe, my guy.”

The Umbaran barely moved. “Red.”

Rex felt it again, the shift. The way the crowd registered her, not as some random outsider, but as one of theirs. Moshe’s eyes drilled into Rex. Small pupils. Pale skin. Sharp teeth. “You bringing a trooper?” 

Tal turned to Rex, looking him dead in the eyes. Held his gaze for a bit longer than usual. Then she smirked, turning back to the bouncer. “A deserter.”

Rex fought the urge to scowl. What the fuck? A deserter? He was a decorated captain of the 501st, a soldier who had bled for the Republic more times than he could count. But before he could open his mouth to protest, he felt it - a hard stomp on his foot. 

Just go with it. The bouncer’s gaze hardened, pale eyes narrowing. He wasn’t looking at Tal anymore. He was looking at him.

“Right, Dex?”

That wasn’t even his fucking name. What was she playing at? Rex exhaled slowly, forcing himself to unclench his fists. He ran through the reasons she would pull this - deserter. That meant he wasn’t GAR. That meant he wasn’t here as a Republic soldier. That meant he wasn’t a threat - or at least, not one that mattered to these people. Because in places like this, there was a difference between being a clone and being a Republic massif. And Tal had just chosen for him.

He rolled his shoulders, toughening his face. He was a man who had walked away from the order, not a man who was still following orders. “Yeah,” he muttered. “That’s right.” Moshe’s stare lingered for another second before he finally stepped aside. Tal clapped Rex on the shoulder, all too pleased with herself, and sauntered inside like she hadn’t just rewritten his entire identity in the span of five seconds. He was going to have words with her later. But for now, he had a role to play. And ‘Dex the deserter’ had just walked into the deepest pit in the underworld.

Ashes of Kuat (Source: Cyberpunk 2077)

The band was already on their fourth song by the time they pushed through the crowd. It consisted of Umbarans - obviously. Three guitarists, one drummer who was probably a fucking lunatic, and a frontwoman wrapped in chains like she had just climbed out of a grave. Her voice wasn’t singing. It was shredding through the air, screaming Huttese like it was being ripped from her throat. Huttese. Rex barely clocked it until he heard Tal singing along with her eyes closed and her hands in the air. Right. She was fluent. He kept forgetting - Huttese was the language of trade for people like her. People who lived outside of systems, outside of planets with clean-cut governments and clear laws. You worked the underworld, you spoke Huttese. 

Another song started. The guitars didn’t just play; they howled, snarled, growled against each other like gears breaking apart. And for some reason, Rex didn’t hate it. It wasn’t like the electronic garbage blasting through Coruscant’s clubs, and it wasn’t the wailing Dathomirian metal Jesse, Fives, and Hardcase used to blast through the LAAT/i’s intercoms before they hit ground. This was darker. More industrial.

More--

SMACK.

A fist flew through the crowd, Rex barely had time to react before Tal moved first, stepping into the blow. A blur of red hair, the crack of knuckles colliding. Then a venomous voice snarled.

"CLONE!"

It snapped him back into focus. The fucker who had thrown the punch was an Umbaran, but not with the band, not security. Some other piece of gutter trash, built lean like someone who never ate enough but had too much energy to burn. His lip pursed in disgust. “Your kind and all the Republic cronies should never step foot down here. 1313 is neutral ground!” Weirdly enough, the show didn’t stop. The band didn’t even blink. No one turned their heads. The only people who cared were the ones closest - the few who had edged back just enough to give the altercation space, but not enough to stop watching. 

“By that logic,” Tal tilted head, “you shouldn’t be here either.” The Umbaran sneered. "Didn't know Little Red had friended the wolf." Rex could feel the tension surrounding them. He gritted his teeth. “Tal--”

"Nah, nah, Dex." She elbowed him hard to stay behind her. "Classic CIS hardliner. Let me handle this."

Rex hated it. Hated being behind someone else. Hated letting someone else step in front of a fight for him. But he could read a room, and right now, letting Tal take the lead was the only thing keeping this from turning into a warzone. She flicked her wrist, letting her blaster slide into her palm. "What do you want?"

The Umbaran’s grin stretched wide. "You know," he shifted his weight from foot to foot, "there’s a bounty for any clone, right?"

Rex’s stomach went cold.

"We take ‘em alive," the man continued in a disgustingly casual tone, as if they were discussing market prices. "Strap ‘em in, slice open their heads, rip the data right out of that pretty little clone brain of yours!"

Rex didn’t hear the rest. Didn’t need to. He knew what they did. Had seen it - maybe not with his own eyes, not yet, but in the way intelligence reports scrubbed details down to desensitised language. ‘Experimental interrogation procedures.’ ‘Data extraction techniques.’ They tore clones apart. Stripped them to parts. Used their brains like hard drives, stealing battle strategies, Republic intel, the same way they stripped droids for useful programming.

Fucking animals.

"Try it," Tal tilted her blaster just enough for the Umbaran to see the charge indicator switched from standby to ready. "Go ahead. Make a fucking move."

The man’s grin faltered. But that was all she needed. “You’re talking a big game,” Tal dropped her voice. “Really big, for someone who’s still standing here, instead of fucking trying something.” The Umbaran clearly wanted to pull his own blaster, but his brain wasn’t stupid enough to let them. He was gauging his odds. Rex knew that look.

A sharp click as she took a step closer, blaster pointed straight to his temple. "Run," she commanded sharply. "Before I put you in the fucking water."

Silence.

The Umbaran laughed. A humourless bark of sound as he held up his hands and backed away. "Alright, Red." He grinned. "Alright. Enjoy your pet."

Tal didn’t lower her blaster until he was swallowed by the crowd. Didn’t turn back to Rex for another long moment, watching her surroundings, before she finally let out a breath. And yet, Rex still hadn’t moved. He was still feeling the heat crawling under his skin. “You good?” Tal asked.

Rex exhaled. Hard.

“I fucking hate this place.”

Desi’s Noodle (Source: Jedi Survivor)

Rex didn’t know how to process the night so far.

It had started at Bug’s Fry-up, with that fucking spicy nerf meatball soup that had nearly melted his tongue off. Then he’d stood there, dumbstruck, as she fed scraps of trash to literal baby dianogas, grinning like a kid at Life Day whilst the wriggling little bastards devoured flimsi like it was grilled nuna. Then he went to an Umbaran black metal gig, where the crowd had felt less like people and more like a bunch of Separatist symphatisers ready to jump him. And somewhere in between all of that, Tal had given him a fake fucking name, called him a deserter, and pulled a blaster on a man who was debating whether or not to crack open his skull and harvest battle strategies from his brain like it was some kind of data stick.

And now it was 0400, and he was crying laughing with her at a tiny noodle bar wedged under a staircase. Another hole in the wall. Another afterthought in the endless sprawl of Level 1313, hidden behind an old warehouse, with a single red sign reading Desi’s. The owner, an older Twi’lek woman with soft green skin, had taken one look at Tal, sighed deeply, and wordlessly brought out two steaming bowls of noodles. And they were incredible.

Rex was still catching his breath, trying to stop laughing at whatever nonsensical shit Tal had just said. He barely even remembered how it started. Something about bounty hunting, maybe? Some ridiculous story about a job gone wrong, and somehow, a fucking tooka got involved. A very angry tooka, if the way Tal was dramatically reenacting it was anything to go by. “—and this little fucker lunged at me, right? Like, full feral. Claws out and shit. And my client was just laughing her ass off! Good thing it was a 10k bounty!”

“How do these things happen to you?” Rex wheezed, slurping another bite of noodle. Tal jabbed her chopsticks at him. “I exist, that’s how. Bad luck is just naturally attracted to me.”

“Bad luck, or bad choices?” Rex snorted. Tal grinned. “Same thing.”

Rex groaned, running a hand on his supposedly tired face, still grinning despite himself. Maker. It had been too long since he laughed like this. Not the barracks kind, not the mess hall kind, but real laughing, the one that warmed his chest and grew roots in his ribs. Everything about tonight had been a disaster, but this moment right here made up for all of it. “What, you don’t get shit like this in the GAR?”

“Not exactly.”

“That’s tragic.” She kicked his feet.

Rex stabbed a little fish cake in his noodle. “You know what’s tragic? The fact that I let you pick where we eat.”

“Excuse you! I have impeccable taste,” she bit back, slurping down another spoonful of the creamy broth.

“Whatever keeps you up at night, Tal.”

“Tell me again about stupid things from battlefields,” she asked with her mouth full. 

There it was again. That smile. It was rare to see her without some mask of sarcasm. And for the first time, Rex noticed just how pretty she actually was. Not in the refined way like those celebrities he often saw in advertisements up there. No, nothing about her was polished. Hers was the kind of beauty that only really hit you when she wasn’t trying. It was the way the neon lights kissed her skin, everchanging between deep reds and cerulean blues. The way her eyes, dark as deep space, flickered with electricity when she blabbered about her misadventures. The way her mismatched Mandalorian armour was plastered with way too many stickers and random scribbles - some of them crude, some of them actually kind of funny - sat on her frame like a second skin. And then there was the signet, or what was left of it. A clan’s symbol that had long since been scratched out since her exile. He wondered if she even noticed how often she fiddled with it.

“Which one do you want to hear?” he asked, surprising himself when he realised he was smiling too. Tal emptied her drink, beaming. “Oh, tell me the dumbest one. I know you fuckers do the stupidest shit when your bosses are away.”

Rex laughed, shaking his head as he recalled his memories. There were so many. The time Fives and Hardcase had tried to see if they could deep fry an entire frozen nuna in the engine room of the Resolute. The time Kix and Echo had stolen a fucking data spike because they claimed they needed it for "medical and technological experiments." The time Jesse had somehow created a moonshine distillery inside their Coruscant barracks.

“Alright. There was this one time--”

And just like that, the night kept going. And Rex didn’t hate it. Not even a little.

[kamino-burrito]

Homecoming

For @clonexocweek day 3: Conflict

Pairing: Clone OC X OC (Chatter X Vierrana) Summary: With the war over, everything should be settled. Or so, Vierrana thought. But, there was one piece still missing, and her doubts grew as the days dragged on. Word Count: 491

This is the first fic I've ever published! I hope this doesn't feel too disjointed since there's details that I haven't shared yet. I'm definitely trying to get used to how to do things. I originally had day 2 and 3 scheduled, but I was unhappy with them, so they underwent revision. I hope I can share day 2's entry. Also, I really appreciate the love I got for these two with my day 1 entry!

Chatter ;) (Last Online: 103 days ago)

Vierrana sank into the couch and pulled her knees to her chest. She tapped at the datapad. That would be the seventh time today, and the status hadn’t changed since she last checked in the evening. Given, it hadn’t changed for months, but it became part of her daily routine: wake up, check it, get ready, check it, manage the shop, check it, eat lunch, check it, go back to work, check it, close for the day, check it, eat dinner, check it. She could hope, not like she had much else. Thoughts spiralled, the war ended months ago, so why hadn’t she heard anything? Did it really have to take yet another person she loved?

***

Chatter ;) (Last Online: 126 days ago)

Curled up in her usual spot, she set the datapad aside. It was her fault really. She should have known better than to open herself up. Was it worth the heartbreak? Idiot. There were no guarantees in life, especially not hers. Stupid idiot, maybe don’t fall for someone who was born to fight and constantly put his life at risk. What, did she really think she’d get a happy ending? That the war would end, and they could build a life together, a future… When did she start thinking about the future? Why make herself that vulnerable? Idiot, idiot, idiot! Admit it, Chatter’s gone. Someone so true and kind. Someone much more deserving of what the galaxy could offer. Someone who gave her more than she could ever return.

***

Chatter ;) (Last Online: 174 days ago)

Her routine nightly check was disrupted by the chime from her front door. She was not in the mood to deal with her neighbors, but the second chime pulled her away from wallowing on the couch. Better be important. When the door slid open, her thoughts came crashing to a halt.

“Chat…”

He was really there, standing right in front of her, but he looked so worn down. In the crook of arm, his helmet weighed down his side. The red paint of his armor had more scratches and chips than before; its vibrancy dulled as well. Black streaks of soot soiled the white segments. 

“You- I- where-” the words jumbled together. She hated him. She had too, right? All those days, and he showed up as if nothing happened. But, she couldn’t. One look into his eyes, what would normally sparkle and shine, looked so empty. All the warmth, replaced with a void.

A thud broke the interim silence, his helmet falling from out of his grip and crashing into the ground. With stiff movements, he pulled her into his chest. The smell of smoke and ash was suffocating. The ridges of his chestplate dug into her skin. She didn’t care. Chatter held her as if she would disappear the moment he let go. She would be there for as long as he needed her.

“Welcome home.”

[skellymom]

"Vagabonds" Chapter 5 "Secrets"

Ongoing fanfic Hunter x Reader/Fem Reader/OC

Hunter meets a smuggler Nomaadi Star Woman with a powerful force sensitive teen who changes the trajectory of CF-99's lives...as they ALL try to escape from The Empire together.

To read Chapter 4:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/730320896366149632/vagabonds-chapter-4?source=share

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

Word Count: 1.6 K

Background: The cat is out of the bag! Hunter and Mad must divulge their secrets.

Warning: Crying, fear, Hunter fluff/angst.

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )

Recap: Hunter sensed something brewing with Mad, then smelled fear suddenly coming off her.  Then he picks up on Love’s fear and Sil’s body language.  THEY KNOW, he thinks and suddenly regrets not being more honest back at Cid’s.  He opens his mouth...” Mad...” 

Mad immediately reaches for her holstered blaster...   

"Secrets"

Hunter, with his quick reflexes reaches behind her back, grabs her wrist and holds it tightly so she cannot unholster her gun.  Mad’s left hand reaches out to grab Hunter’s right shoulder and angrily digs her nails into his skin.  He tries to ignore the physical and emotional pain but drops the caf.  It hits the floor, spilling dramatically. 

“CLONE!  Are you working for the Empire???” 

Tech instantly stops talking, shocked.  Wrecker immediately stands up and blurts, “WHATS GOIN’ ON!?”   

Sil looks at Omega “Meg, did they capture you?  Are you a slave???” 

Omega looks scared, shocked, confused all at the same time, “No...I left Kamino because they came back for me.  They are my brothers.” 

“Oh, for KRIFF SAKE!  She’s one too.”  Mad is beyond pissed.   

Wrecker tries to reach out and hug Mad.  It’s the only thing he knows to do when people are upset.  He’s stopped by an invisible force.  He can’t walk and is now levitating above the ‘Dames decking.  Love is behind him with both hands out using their power, and levitating too, intense concentration on their face. 

Everyone sees this happening, and it occurs to both Hunter and Tech exactly why Mad and Love are so scared.  Love can control the Force, they both think the Batch will execute Order 66 killing them, and probably Sil too.   

“I promise we won’t harm any of you.”  Hunter extends his left hand out to try cup Mad’s cheek.  She flinches away.  His hand stops, palm open, beseeching her forgiveness. 

“Hunter’s telling the truth.  We refused to kill the Jedi and left Kamino as soon as the Empire took over.  We are running from them too.”  Omega pleaded. 

“I concur.  We are not a danger.”  Tech chimes in, finger raised. 

Wrecker, resigned to not being able to do anything but float, “Yeah...what they said.” 

Mad stands there thinking this over.  “Why weren’t you honest with me?” 

“I’m sorry.  Thought you would walk out on me last night.  I should have been open with you.” lowering his voice, “You never told me you had a Jedi on board.” 

“Love’s NOT a Jedi.  I refused to let them be indoctrinated into that order.  If I had, we would all be dead now.”  She’s still angry, but now Hunter sees tears forming in her eyes.  She’s holding back a lot of strong emotions. 

“Tech!  When are you getting over here with my caf!!!”  Everyone flinches as Echo screeches over Tech’s comm. 

Tech sighs, “Echo, your timing is impeccable.  May I leave and take Echo his caf?  He will become intolerable without it.  We still need to locate the part for your shield generator.”  Clearly, Tech had his priorities, and killing the ‘Dames crew was not on the list.  Mad was still unable to speak. 

Wrecker's feet hit the decking with a thud as Love released him.  “Awww, we won’t hurt ya.  Promise.” 

Love’s voice whispers in Mad’s head, “Mom, they mean it.  They won’t hurt us.  I can feel it.” 

She’s still on alert but trying to calm down.  

Hunter senses something between Mad and Love.  Just not sure what.  Tech is watching the exchange with interest, trying to piece things together. 

Mad slowly calms down and releases her grip on the blaster and Hunter’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.  Thank you, Tech...and Wrecker...for everything.  I’ll be ok.  It’s been hard to trust anyone for a long time.”   

“Understandable.  We have had to be vigilant as well.  I will contact Hunter when we obtain the replacement part.  We can plan on meeting up and repairing the Beldame then.”  Tech nods and makes his way down the gangplank. 

Hunter releases his grip on Mad’s wrist.  She throws her arms around him in embrace.  Hunter puts his arms around Mad and buries his head in the crook of her neck.  He can hear her sniffle softly.   

Tech paused before leaving, “Hunter, PLEASE keep your comm on in case I need to contact you?” 

“Yes Tech,” Hunter growled still buried in Mads neck. 

“Very good,” Tech turns and makes his way to the Marauder. 

Mad feels someone embrace her leg.  She looks down to see Omega.  Omega looks up and smiles reassuringly.  Mad reaches out and tousles Omega’s hair.  Sil follows suit and hugs Mad from behind.  Love floats in and rubs lazy circles on Hunter’s and Mad’s back.  Wrecker is left standing there, confused, unsure what to do. 

“It’s ok to hug us now, Wrecker” Mad says.  He breaks out in a huge smile and embraces everyone.  Love stops doing lazy circles on Mad’s back and starts them on top of Wrecker’s head.  He sighs. 

They stay like this for some time trying to relieve the stress.  Omega was the first to break the silence. 

“You know we’re all standing in a puddle of caf, right?” 

Mad looks down and sees the spilled caf.  “I’m SO SORRY!” 

“No problem, I’ve got this.” Hunter hands her several napkins and it reminds them both of last night when Mad choked on the Spotchka.  They grin at each other, she takes the napkin, and dabs her tears away.  

Hunter grabs a towel off a nearby bunk and helps clean up.  Omega, Love, and Wrecker immediately start picking up the trash strewn about the ship.  Sil runs to the pantry to grab refuse bags. 

“We must be SO careful.  I think you know things have been getting...complicated lately.” 

“We understand your distrust of clones.  Our brother Crosshair decided to stay with The Empire.  Which is now actively looking for us and Omega.  Luckily, he doesn’t know we’re here. “ 

“Just how many siblings DO you have?”  He can see the relief on Mad’s face.  He’s back to being the man she can trust.  

He chuckles “Technically, the whole clone army is related.  But 4 brothers and 1 sister I am very close to.  You have yet to meet Echo.” 

“I’ll have time tonight after picking up some cargo for a job this afternoon.  Would you and the rest of your siblings like to have dinner together with us on the Beldame?” 

“Uh...yeah, we’ll all be there!” 

“Looking forward to it.” 

“I should go and check in at the Marauder.” 

“See you later then.   I’ll comm you when I get back from my job” Mad planted a big kiss on Hunter’s lips and he returned it. 

Hunter crouches down to Omega. 

“You ok?  What just happened was probably scary” 

“I was worried in the moment, but OK now.  Looks like we aren’t the only family that needs to be careful.  Can I stay for a while with Love and Sil?  

Hunter glances up at Mad. 

“She’s VERY welcome to stay.  We’ll feed her and she can use our refresher.” 

Sil, Love, and Wrecker jump up and down happily at the news. 

“First, though, you all need to clean up this place and take Tiggy for a walk.” 

Groans from Love and Sil.  Omega salutes Mad, “Yes, Ma’am!” 

The kids set out cleaning up their messes. 

“C’mon Wrecker, let's go” Hunter nods to his brother. 

“WHAT?  OHHHH, I wanna stay too!”  He sulks. 

“Let Omega stay with her friends, Mad’s got things to do.  We need to get back to the Marauder.” 

“Ahhh, poo.”  Wrecker picks up Lula and brings his caf with him, “I had a good time everyone.  See ya later.” 

Everyone waves goodbye.  Hunter and Wrecker walk down the gangplank.   

When they are out of earshot, Wrecker roughly pats Hunter on the back, “Muahaha, you got a girlfriend!”  He’s grinning like crazy. 

“I guess you could say that.” 

“You like her ALOT, yeah?” 

“She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met.” 

“She’s pretty and spicy.  I Like her kids, too.” 

“Technically one of them is her nephew.” 

“Eh, it’s all the same to them.  Like Omega is our sister and kinda like our daughter.” 

“Guess so.”  Hunter is glib.  So much has happened since last night.  He doesn’t get close quickly with people outside of his clone family.  It feels strange, but...right.  Mad, Sil, and Love seem like good people.  He can see himself being in their company for a long time.  This is new for him.  

Wrecker broke the silence and started singing, “Hunter and Mad, sittin’ in a tree.  K...I...S...S...I...N...G...” 

“HUSH, you!” 

Wrecker laughed and bonked Hunter on the head with Lula. 

 Tiggy is still not accounted for.  Mad turned and headed up towards the front of the ship looking for the pup.  She reaches her seat in the cockpit to find Tiggy curled up INSIDE the cushion.  Stuffing and bits of leather littered the cockpit.  The pup's head is the only thing poking out of the upholstery and she's snoring soundly.   

Mad sighs in mild frustration.  It HAD to be HER chair that was destroyed.  The pilot’s chair.  Considering Tig could have done more damage not being supervised last night, she can’t be TOO upset.  Luckily Tech was looking after the pup this morning.  Mad was going to have to have a very serious discussion with Love about owning a pet. 

If what the butcher back on Coruscant said was true, Tiggy was a hybrid between two Force sensitive breeds of canine: Vornskr hunting dog and wild Loth Wolf.  Seems her tail was docked to remove the venomous barb at the end and blunt any aggression.  Mad was concerned about any residual Vornskr aggression against Force users, but hoped the lofty Loth Wolf would dilute this.  Either Tiggy was going to be a great pet or a total disaster.  Mad was going to have to consult with Tech later to see if he had any knowledge or advice on the matter.  

She tiptoed toward the refresher to clean up and get ready for the next job...

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

To read Chapter 6

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/733835736590303232/vagabonds-chapter-6?source=share

[marierg]

A Simple Wish

Pairing: Comander Cody x Rowan Atwater OC (written as a reader insert)

Rating: Everybody! (for this chapter at least)

(regular world AU/ zapped into reality AU/ fix-it AU?)

Warnings: holiday depressie, loneliness, language, Hurt/comfort/fluff/comedy...

Honestly though this may get a little more interesting and reflective later so... we'll see.

A/N: So I noticed that some of the peeps (actually a lot of us) are in the bleak midwinter rut and one in particular inspired this little story. @spicyclones79s I hope this is a good start

Masterlist Next

Another year and another Christmas spent on your own. With everything being so expensive you couldn't afford to fly home. Not that your Command would give you more than a few days leave anyway, such was military life. Well only a few months left till you hit your ETS and then you'd be outta here. If they wouldn't let you fly combat anymore and the Doc could give you a medical discharge without it interfering with a Civilian flying job then all the better.

To top all of it off this week you'd been trying to kick a cold but damned if it wasn't turning into a sinus infection. Still it was Christmas Eve, tradition demanded that you make some cookies and prepare for Santa to drop off presents. Silly as it was you still wanted to have a Christmas like when you were a kid. So you made a hot toddy (extra strong), set out the cookies and lay down on the couch.

Glancing out the window you caught sight of a shooting star. Maybe there was still something of the bright eyed kid you had once been underneath all the cynicism and pain. Perhaps it was simply that every human looked to the stars in wonder and hope. Closing your eyes and snuggled under the thick fleece blanket you made a wish, "Hey Santa, if you're out there, don't suppose you could send me a friend? Maybe someone brave and smart and patient..."

Glancing at your entertainment center, eye catching on your DVD set of the Clone Wars you smirked. Chuckling at the thought you went for broke, why not. "If Marshal Commander Cody isn't busy for the next oh... forty years that'd be awesome!"

With a little drunken giggle you lay back and drifted off to sleep.

It was just past one in the morning when a solid thud and some creative cursing summoned your mind back to semi consciousness. You thought it might be some of the dude bros from across the hall coming home after too much holiday cheer at the bar. So you rolled over and went back to sleep.

"Can anyone hear me? Hello? Rex..."

Oh this was Kriffing great. Cody couldn't believe this. One minute he's about to be shot while escaping the Empire, the next he's standing in some strange domicile. Glancing around Cody noted the lower use of technology and the darkness outside the windows. He was definitely not where he had been just a few moments ago.

It was a small apartment of some form, second floor above a small town street. Cody also noticed the woman who was asleep on the couch. It was far too dark to take in all her features, but pretty none the less. Easing his way through the space (was that a tree of some form?) and closer to the window he further confirmed that he was not where he should be. Vehicles rolling on wheels, no discernable space port, "Where in Sith hells am I?"

Hearing a distinctly deep, male voice you peeked your eyes open again. Holy shit there was someone in your apartment! Fueled by liquid courage and pure pissed off rage you took the throw pillow and began to bash the stranger. "TAKE THAT YOU CREEP!"

"What the-," Cody wasn't sure if he was being beaten by the small hellion or if this was their way of saying hello. Grabbing the soft cushion out of their hands he took his helmet off with the other. "Whoa.. Hold on... I can explain!"

"Alexa lights on!" The room illuminated immediately. You're not sure what hit the floor first the pillow from his hand or your jaw. "You're... You're..."

Cody had to move quickly to catch the poor little thing as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Great, just great. Placing her back on the padded lounger he elevated her feet and checked her pulse, "Poor girl, must have scared her... hey you still with me?"

Blinking open your eyes you looked up into kind brown ones full of concern. Oh yeah you had had way too much to drink or you were dreaming... except the pounding headache only confirmed that neither of those could be true. The man pulled his gloves off and brushed the hair back from your face, hallucinations weren't solid and they couldn't manipulate your body. Nor do they chuckle when you reach up and touch their face. That scar is so distinctive that there was no question. Squinting at the man you took a deep breath, "Commander Cody?"

"Yes! Do I know you?" Cody lit up at the fact that this Nat born seemed to recognize him.

Watching the man closely you placed the flat of your hand on his cheek, shaking as it was. You couldn't believe it, he was actually here. How? How could he be here?!

"I need to get back, but I don't know where I am?" Cody could see that you were still coming around. He could only hope that you could help him. "Ma'am I need to get back to my brothers they're in trouble."

"You're in North Dakota... Earth." You saw the confusion on his face, you sat up biting your lip. This was the kind of thing that happened in books and TV, not real life. Yet here stood none other than one of the hero's of the grand army of the republic. Giving yourself a good pinch just to confirm that this was real you saw as the man smirked.

"I promise I mean you no harm," Cody wasn't quite sure why he found your reaction so funny but it felt good to laugh. Holding your gaze he tried again, "Is there a spaceport nearby?"

Blowing out a breath you looked at the façade of calm the Commander held to. You'd had that same look many a time in the past and as then you settled on being blunt with the situation. "I'm afraid you're a long way from home Commander."

Cody felt his gut drop, though he tried to remember what General Kenobi would say about the Force working in mysterious ways. The question remained though, "And how do you know me?"

"It's complicated... and I don't think you're going to believe me." Grimacing you sigh, "I don't even think I believe it."

Carefully taking the woman's hand in his own Cody gave it a reassuring squeeze, "Try me."

The next few hours were spent talking, arguing, and confirming the few known facts as the two were able to put together. Cody was not in his own galaxy or time. That after viewing a small clip of a holo film series showing him and his brothers, you explained that he was considered a fictional character. You had been kind enough to take him to the roof to confirm there was not a single recognizable constellation in the sky even. This was a far more primitive world than his own as well, the mechanical devices looked like they were put together by a group of cadets. No, Cody was not where he was supposed to be, nor could either of you explain how he came to be here. He seriously doubted it was because of a wish on a star.

You had been terrified as Cody revealed to you what had been happening right before landing in your living room. That one revelation made you grateful to whatever power had sent him, glad beyond measure that it saved him. Then you were heartbroken seeing the hopeless, lonely look on his face as it started to set in that there was no way to send him home. As you came back to the couch you handed him a cup of tea, "I'm really sorry Commander, truly."

"It's not your fault Rowan, I just wish I knew how they are? If they're safe?" He couldn't yet sip the tea, if he drank it then that meant accepting that this was real, that he was really and truly stuck in this place.

Sitting opposite him you took a deep breath, "I can tell you what I know, at least how the story has been told here. Rex and Wolffe survive and fight against the Empire, Gregor too. Boba is the Daimyo of Tattoine."

"And the others? Wooley, Boil, Fox?"

"I can't say for certain, I'm sorry. But I will tell you that Rex saw the fall of the Empire for sure. He even fought on Endor with the rebel forces there in the beginning of the end. You can be really proud of him," reaching across to pat his hand you felt horrible. This was all your fault!

Cody took hold of your comforting touch, it wasn't often clones were treated kindly by natborns. He felt the momentary stiffness but then the relaxation as he just held on to you. Cautious little thing, but you hadn't crumpled under the impossible situation and instead were being an anchor for him. Cody smiled at your compliment to his brothers, "I'm always proud of my Vod'e."

"I'm sorry... for everything." For all he endured, all that he faced now it wasn't fair. The clones had done nothing wrong and still they had been used. A great many of your fellows felt the same.

Cody chuffed and smirked, "I sincerely doubt that you're at fault."

The two of you sat for a minute not sure what the next step should be. Being of a practical mind and also a tired body you took a deep breath and tried to make the next right choice. "Well in the mean time you're staying here. Why don't you get comfortable and I'll get some blankets. We can work on it more in the morning."

Cody chuffed out a breath, "Is that an order?"

"You got a better offer?" You sassed back.

That did get a laugh out of Cody, "Aye Ma'am."

After he had gotten settled on your, sofa he thought you called it, Cody watched again as you paused in the doorway glancing back at him. There was something serene about you, a kindness that was like a balm to the ills of the world. It was unique and beautiful to him.

"Good night Commander."

"You can call me by my name Rowan." Cody did chuckle at the flush rising in your cheeks, "Only my troopers call me by my rank."

"Oh, of course... I mean duh..." Oh well done, such an intelligent response Ro. Squinting and blinking your eyes open in embarrassment you turned, "Goodnight Cody, sleep well."

Cody rather liked seeing you all flustered, it was karking adorable. Mischief taking his better judgement he rolled pulling the blankets up, "Goodnight mesh'la."

"Oh my...night!" You quickly closed the door. Oh Ro what have you gotten yourself into now? settling under your own blankets you closed your eyes. and somewhere between the waking and the dreams you thanked the stars. One soldier safe for another night.

As he rolled and started to drift the commander was set to the side leaving simply the man. Cody may not know where he was or how to get home, but he felt safe here with you. Strange situation aside, for the first time in a very long time Cody relaxed enough to fall into an exhausted, deep sleep. No nightmares of battle droids, no screams, just the quiet of the night.

Tags:

@spicyclones79s @the-rain-on-kamino @arctrooper69

[zenrobbins0021]

Across the Galaxy: Chapter 7

Hunter x OC 18+ (warnings given before certain chapters)

“Oh god.” I forced my eyelids open at the feeling of the sunrise shining down on me. I was upside down in my bed, blankets tangled between my legs and I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I shivered as the breeze from the open window caressed my bare shoulders, trying to orient myself. I stumbled into the bathroom, turning on the shower and waiting for the water to get warm while I peeked in the mirror. My hair was all over the place, faint circles under my eyes and I winced inwardly. Once in the shower, I scrubbed all over my body and washed my hair, closing my eyes at the warm stream of water trickling down my head and back. 

Feeling clean and fresh, I finally got myself together and left home, heading towards Lower Pabu where the docks were already busy with the early morning fishermen hauling in their first catches of the day. The familiar shadow of the Marauder on one of the lower landing bays crossed my path and I saw Wrecker loading cargo into the cargo hold. As soon as he saw me, his face broke out into a huge smile and he dropped his box with a thud, rushing for me head on. 

“Morning!” He laughed, “Glad to see you woke up on the other side!” “Not so loud, Wrecker, please.” I winced but couldn’t help but return his smile, his cheerful demeanor was so contagious. “Where is everyone?” “Tech and Phee are somewhere around the market getting rations for the trip. Echo and Omega are still on Upper Pabu and Hunter should be around here somewhere.” 

I patted Wrecker on the shoulder as I walked past him up the gangplank of the Marauder, ducking my head slightly and letting my eyes adjust to the dimmer lights of the ship. A familiar figure stood in the cockpit, reaching high for supplies on an upper shelf, the action pulling muscles taut underneath the armor. A slight change in Hunter’s body language and I knew he had heard me enter, turning around and focusing his dark eyes on me as I made my way to the cockpit. 

“Sleep well?” Hunter questioned, lips tilted in amusement as he looked down at me. 

“Thanks to whoever brought me back home in one piece, yes.” I searched his face as something deep with feeling crossed over his expression but he said nothing. “Thank you for bringing me home and for, well…everything that happened after that.” 

“You remember?”

I nodded, thinking about how Hunter had gently ushered me back into bed after I had begged him to stay on Pabu. Thinking about how his lips felt pressed against my forehead and how warm his hands had felt gripping my arms. 

“You were right to reject me, you know.” I added, “Not the most romantic circumstances.” “You do understand that I said no out of respect for you.” Hunter asked, his eyes searching mine, “Not because I didn’t want to kiss you.”

I felt warmth spread from my cheeks to my stomach and suddenly his gaze was too intense. I dropped my eyes, blinking at his boots and watching as they stepped closer to me and I felt his thumb and index finger gently tipping my chin up.  

“Yes, I know.” I said softly, feeling suddenly paralyzed at the proximity between us. 

“You told me something last night.” Hunter’s voice was low, so deep that I could feel the vibrations from his chest, “You said you were falling in love with me.” 

I caught my breath, remembering but no feelings of regret or embarrassment came with the memory. If anything, I was glad I had finally put it out there in the open, the feelings and the quick glances, the long walks on the beach, the occasional hand in the small of my back helping me up stairs, and the heart-stopping passion behind the dark brown eyes. I could only nod in affirmation. 

“I’m a…complicated man, Iona.” Hunter continued, raising his right hand to cup my cheek gently as I relaxed into his touch. “I have a squad, my brothers. I have Omega to think about. Bounty hunters, clones, not to mention the Empire have it out for us.” “I know.” “We’re still tied to Cid paying off debts and running from one corner of the galaxy to the other just trying to make ends meet.” “I know.” “Everywhere we go, the smoke of war and ruin follow us.” “I know that too.” “Then why?” He is so close to me now, his head bowed slightly with the bridge of his nose almost touching mine. My back is pushed against the wall of the cockpit but I’m filled with warmth as Hunter cradles me with his body, so close to touching but not quite. “Why do you love me?”

I placed my hands on either side of his hips, noting the way the clone’s chest rose and fell with the motion. With a gentle tug, I pulled him closer to me, our eyes never breaking eye contact. 

“Because you are the most kind, generous, protective man I have ever met.” I paused, watching as Hunter’s eyes softened at my words, silent as I continued, “I used to wake up cold and empty inside, wondering if I was going to make it to the next day. I had no one. I was no one. And now I wake up wondering when I will get to see you next and when we’ll be able to talk to each other again. I see you in the city square and I don’t know if I remember how to breathe. One touch of your hand in mine and everything I know about the world flies out of my head.” 

Hunter lowers his mouth onto mine before the last word leaves my lips, his kiss consuming my entire body and being. At first it is gentle, as if he is pouring all the unspoken words his heart had whispered into this one action. Then it turns even more heated and desperate, making me reach blindly for his shoulders for something stable to hold on to as I keep up with his lips, kissing him back hard. His throat vibrates with the low moan that rumbles out of his chest, tilting my chin up and deepening our kiss. When his lips finally leave mine, I open my eyes to see that his eyes are dark, pupils blown wide in desire as he looks down at me. 

“I’ve been dreaming about kissing you for weeks.” Hunter murmurs, his thumb running across my bottom lip, “I never imagined it would be like this.” 

“Can you-“ I’m breathless and he waits patiently for me to catch my breath, “I need you to kiss me again.”

Hunter’s lips tilt and he chuckles, the kiss he gives me is slow and exploratory as he takes his time familiarizing his lips with mine. His hands reach up to cup my face, cradling my head gently but firmly holding it in place as he deepens the kiss. I let my hands drop from his shoulders, running down his chest and settling on his hips as I let Hunter take control. Over and over again, he kisses me with each one stronger and more passionate than the last. When Hunter finally pulls away, all I can do is look up at him with bright eyes, reveling in our closeness. 

“Iona-“ Hunter pauses, turning his head as the sound of footsteps pattering makes him take a step back slightly, angling his body to see who is coming up the gangplank. 

“Well, if it isn’t Dark and Broody getting dark and dirty.” The familiar, rich voice of Phee echoed in the Marauder. She crossed her arms over her chest, a wide grin spreading over her face. “About time you two starry-eyed lovers stopped gawking at each other and did something about it.” 

“Hey Phee,” I stepped back, lowering my hands from Hunter’s neck and resting them on his chest plate, “Where’s Omega?” 

“Helping Tech load up the back cargo hold with supplies. Don’t worry, the little lady won’t catch you two snooking.” The pirate winked hard, causing a light shade of pink to flush under Hunter’s tan skin. We waited until Phee ducked back outside before our eyes met again. 

“So.” 

“So.” I repeated, smiling softly at the clone. His eyes had a gleam of affection as he looked down at me. 

“We’d better get moving before my brothers get curious and start looking for us.” Hunter replied, not budging an inch. 

“That’s a good idea.” I agreed, staying exactly where I was standing, my left leg between his, with hands reaching up to hold his cheeks. 

Hunter chuckled, dipping his head down to plant another slow, warm kiss to my lips. I closed my eyes and let his scent, his warmth fill my senses and I kissed him back. Nobody came looking for us.

[ashes-2-ashes57cba]

The Clone Wars: A Distant Echo

Part 2 of the Clone Wars Bad Batch arc with my OC: Specter! this has been edited *adla'vod: roughly translates to "twin", directly translates to "same brother/sister"

Specter felt surprised and almost betrayed when Crosshair let General Anakin Skywalker inspect his beloved rifle. Usually, he would get fussy if even she touched it. He wouldn’t even let her put her stuff next to his. 

The Bad Batch, Captain Rex, and the Jedi were on board the Batch’s ship—the Marauder—on their way to Skako Minor, following the live signal “Echo” supposedly sent out. Rex watched as Wrecker lifted a gonk droid with one hand and ate with the other. Crosshair observed as the General looked at his gun, and Hunter monitored any planetside activity at the console while Tech flew them to their destination. The female clone sat back, resting and mentally preparing herself for their next mission. 

“So, how many missions has your team been on, Sergeant?” Anakin asked Hunter.

“Honestly, sir, I’ve lost count. All the action sort of blurs together,” he admitted with a shrug.

“I know you work with Cody sometimes, but who exactly do you guys report to?” Rex asked. Hunter hummed in thought.

“Good question. Can’t say I’ve got an answer.”

“Yeah, I’d feel really bad for the one who would have to try and make sense of our reports,” Specter piped up. Wrecker laughed in agreement. “Oh, adla’vod?” The sniper turned to his twin as Anakin handed him his rifle back. “Your taste in music is weird and the songs you suggested are weird, and I love it. I’m adding them to the playlist.”

“I told you,” he said with a smirk. 

“So you’re the first female clone. How does that affect your… dynamic?” Skywalker asked, turning his attention to Specter. She raised an eyebrow.

“If you’re implying what I think you are, don’t worry about it. I’ve heard enough of the whispers. I’ve saved these boys more times than they’d like to admit, so I’m not just a pretty face.”

“What?” Anakin blushed, “N-no, like— gosh how do I say it without sounding crass?” Specter surprised him by laughing. 

“I’m teasing, General, I know what you mean. They’re my brothers and best friends. They respect me and know when to give me my space when I need it. In return, I don’t break their knees. Isn’t that right boys?” she asked aloud to her team.

“Yes, ma’am,” they replied; some enthusiastically, some with disdain. 

“However they don’t always pick up after themselves. Take Tech, for example,” she said loudly, hoping to get his attention.

“What now?” he sighed.

“Just because my bunk was empty and clean, does not mean you get to use it for storage for your projects.”

“You weren’t using it.”

“Because your stuff was on it!” Rex and Anakin snickered at their argument while Crosshair and Hunter rolled their eyes. A thud and the sound of alarms ended their argument.

“We are approaching Skako Minor,” Tech reported. “It looks to be a difficult landing.” The Marauder broke through the thunderous clouds, turbulence rocked the ship. Wrecker went to help Tech man the controls while the others strapped themselves in. 

Once they landed and everything settled, the rest of the team gathered in the cockpit.

“Rex, what do we know about this place?” Anakin asked his captain.

“On this part of Skako, there’s a race of locals, the Poletecs. All we know is that they’re very primitive.”

“‘Primitive’ is being kind. My intel says the Poletecs worship flying reptiles,” Tech chimed in. A thud and screech were heard outside the ship, almost in reply to the Batcher’s remark. A shadow of a creature scurried over the viewport.

“Oh! What the heck was that?” Wrecker exclaimed as the ship rocked and jolted.

“It’s one of those reptiles,” Tech simply answered.

“I want that thing off my ship,” Hunter growled, putting on his helmet. The Batchers followed his lead and prepared to go outside to investigate. 

“Hold on! Hold on! Don’t just run out there,” Rex warned. 

The Bad Batch ignored him, running out to the blowing winds. A creature was on top of the ship, its rider a mere silhouette against the dim golden light peeking through the dust and clouds.

“Hey! Get off of there!” Wrecker yelled, pointing his blaster at them. Anakin ignited his saber but held his arm out to the brute.

“Hey, calm down. We need to talk to them,” he said.

“Why?” Hunter gowled. The Bad Batch wasn’t used to handling confrontations with diplomacy.

“The General’s right,” Rex supported. Two more flying creatures screeched and approached fast, intently flying toward the group. 

“Heads up!” Specter yelled, crouching low. Anakin pushed Rex out of the way as one of them reached out with its claws to grab at the captain. The two flew by, but the one atop the ship jumped down and grabbed Anakin before flying away with the rest of its group. The Jedi’s lightsaber fell from his belt, Rex grabbed it before firing a few potshots at the reptile, hoping to have some sort of effect. Tech looked through his visor, tracking him.

“I have a thermal reading. Point-two-five east, elevation 175,” he reported. 

“Relax,” Crosshair said, readying his rifle and using Tech’s shoulder as a mount, “I’ll handle this.” He fired a grappling line, latching onto the leg of the reptile holding Anakin.

“What are you doing?” Rex asked as Crosshair handed Hunter the base of the line. 

“Going for a ride,” Hunter said, clipping the line to his belt before being yanked away. “Keep the boys out of trouble, Spec.” Specter crossed her arms, and yelled after him.

“Like they listen to me anyway, but sure thing.” 

The group watched as Hunter and the General disappeared into the thick clouds. Silence surrounded the group until Wrecker turned to Specter and asked-

“Should we follow them?”

“Not yet,” she replied. “We can’t be sure of any more of those reptiles hiding among the clouds. Best to trust Hunter to assess the situation before we rush in.” Her fist tightened with anxiety by her side; Hunter often trusted her judgment enough for her to lead the group when he couldn’t, but this time the life of a Jedi General was on the line.

“Tech, I’m with the General. Hone in on my signal,” Hunter’s voice eventually came through the comm. Specter relaxed her shoulders before turning to the others.

“Alright, now we can regroup. Everyone back to the Marauder,” she said, taking charge and gesturing back to the ship, following the others inside just as Tech launched the shuttle and flew to Hunter’s signal. 

They eventually touched down a ways back from the edge of a ridge leading down into the Poletec’s village. Hunter was kneeling down, out of sight, observing the scene. 

“That creature still has a hold of the General,” he reported to Rex, who went to take position beside him. Rex flipped down the antennae on his helmet, looking through the scope to assess Skywalker, Specter mirrored him, tracking each of the villagers.

“We’re going in,” he said, standing up, “but remember what the General said. ‘No casualties, disarm only’.” The reminder was emphasized towards the Batch with a few pointed glances. Wrecker shook his head and slumped in dejection. 

“We’re on it, Captain,” Hunter stood up before giving orders. “Wrecker, Crosshair, rockslide!” The two went to push the large boulder nearby down the ridge and into the village. As it rolled, Wrecker shadowed behind it, using it as cover, while Crosshair stayed behind to take a sniper position. The rest of the team followed suit, shooting to disarm the natives as they scrambled away. Crosshair shot an electric probe at the leg of the creature holding Anakin; it flew off from the shock, allowing the Jedi to roll out of the way of the boulder. Hunter pointed his pistol at the leader of the Poletecs; it spoke its language at him, waving his arms about. “Tech, translate what he said?” 

“He says he does not want our war on his planet. That is why he took our leader,” he relayed, reading the translation off his visor.

“We didn’t bring the war here,” Anakin said, “it was Wat Tambor and the Separatists.” Tech went to translate, doing his best to mimic the Poltec dialect. The chieftain looked between him and Skywalker.

“Tell him we apologize for what’s happened,” Rex stepped forward. “But tell him the enemy is holding one of our men prisoner in Purkoll. As soon as we rescue him, we’ll leave this planet, for good.” Tech nodded, turning to the chieftain and relaying the information. 

Specter couldn’t help but giggle; Rex noticed her shaking shoulders and nudged her side. 

“Hey, what’s so funny?”

“He just sounds so robotic. He’s not even attempting to follow through with the accent,” she explained. 

“Could you do any better?” Rex asked. She scoffed.

“Give me a day and I could even learn the local dialect, Captain. If it helps put things in perspective, I learned Galactic Sign Language in a week.” 

���Wow, Specter, is there anything you can’t do?” Rex wondered.

“Yeah. She can’t reach the high shelves,” Crosshair sneered. His twin stomped on his foot. 

The Poltec leader and Tech continued to speak back and forth in what looked like apologies and negotiations. 

“The chief says he’ll provide us with scouts and lead us to Tambor’s city. From there, we’re on our own,” he reported to Anakin. 

“Any help is better than no help.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The two scouts led the team to a rocky outlook with a clear view of the city, or at least the spires hanging down from the clouds. One pointed towards the city and said something in his language; Tech thanked them before they went to return to their village. 

“Hope nobody’s scared of heights,” Anakin said with a smirk. Crosshair, Hunter, and Specter turned to look at Wrecker, who perked up at the attention.

“Well, I’m not scared of nothing!” he assured, unconvincingly. He glanced down the cliff rock, however, noting the height. “I just… when I’m up real high, I got a problem with gravity,” the brute admitted.

“Speaking of problems,” Tech spoke up, “I am no longer picking up Echo’s signal.”

“I don’t understand,” Rex said, surprised, “you said it was coming from this city.”

“I can only speculate, but it is possible there’s a latency issue with the frequency caused by all these atmospheric disturbances,” Tech said, holding up his datapad.

“Or… maybe they sent the signal to lure us into a trap,” Hunter speculated. “And maybe your friend’s actually dead. Well I can’t be the only one thinking of that.”

“But if a clone can come back from the dead, then nothing could stop me from being completely unhinged,” Specter fantasized.

“Look, every mission could be a trap. This one is no different,” Rex argued against Hunter. “I’m telling you that signal is being sent by Echo himself! He’s alive!”

“I think you’re letting your personal feelings get in the way because you left him for dead at the Citadel,” Crosshair sneered, turning his back on the captain. Specter tilted her head back in exasperation. 

“I had no choice. You hear me?” Rex said, his tone dark and on the verge of anger.

“Oh, I don’t blame you. I would’ve left him for dead too. Besides, he’s just another reg.” 

Specter didn’t blame Rex, nor did she try to stop him when he punched Crosshair to the ground. 

“Hey!” Wrecker grabbed the captain by the back of his armor. “Why don’t you pick on someone not your size?” The brute threw him off, but Rex turned right back around and marched up to him.

“You’ll be a whole lot smaller when I’m through with you,” he growled.

“That’s enough!” Anakin ordered, pushing the two men apart. “Sergeant, take your men and scout the area for a tower entrance. I want to talk to my Captain alone.” Hunter motioned for the Bad Batch to follow him, Specter helped Crosshair stand up before smacking the back of his helmet, scolding her twin for his insensitive comment.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The wind howled, blowing golden dust. Specter shifted her stance again, trying to ignore the itch of sand up in her armor. The Batch did their best to peer through the sand and guard the entrance of one of the towers leading up to the city while Tech worked on the door panel. Hunter sensed someone coming, holding up his gun in defense. But it was Skywalker and Rex running to meet them.

“We’re in business, General. Tech regained Echo’s signal,” Hunter reported, shouting over the wind and walking him towards the entrance. “It’s coming from this tower. How’s it going, Tech?” The clone had his datapad hooked up to a console, quietly working through algorithms and firewalls to get past the door. After pushing a few buttons, he was able to gain access.

“Sorry it took so long,” he replied with a shrug. 

“Hey, twins, check it out,” Hunter nodded inside. 

“Ah yes, the noble sacrifices,” Specter slumped before holding up her blaster and following Crosshair, sweeping the inner room for any traps or cameras. They found nothing and turned back to the door. 

“Yeah, it’s a lift,” Crosshair deadpanned.

“How magical,” Specter feigned wonder.

“Well, we already knew that,” Rex said, unamused, walking inside with the others. Wrecker nervously looked up at the tower, most of it disappeared behind heavy clouds. 

“Wait, wait, wait. A lift? How far up are we going?” he growled.

“Don’t worry, Wrecker. I’ll hold your hand,” Hunter teased. 

“Hey! Cut it out, Sarge,” Wrecker said, bumping past Hunter’s shoulder, “Just give me some droids to crush.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Remember, this is a stealth mission,” the General said as the lift neared the top, “no blasting, no blowing things up. Nobody knows we’re here.”

“Pff, don’t count on it,” Specter muttered, collapsing her blaster’s stalk and preparing her pistol. The door opened to a group of droids who abandoned their tasks, turned to the intruders, and readied their weapons. Wrecker dashed out, crashing into the ones closest, throwing one at another group near the back and swinging another at a few near the opening. They fell with robotic screams.

“I told you!” Specter said before running out to the fight with her squadmates. Anakin could only shake his head with a smirk. She fired alongside Tech, covering the corridor that led inside the facility. A pair of droids snuck up behind them, separating her and Tech. Specter let them corner her against some crates; once they were right where she wanted, she jumped up and pushed off against the crates—over the droids’ line of fire—knocking them down with a split kick. A shot flew past her shoulder, striking a lone droid attempting to charge at her; Specter looked up to find Crosshair fired the shot, she returned the favor by blasting a droid approaching behind him.

 Wrecker charged at the remaining droids, firing relentlessly and cheering from the adrenaline once they were victorious. Everyone simply looked at him.

“Uh… sorry. I just got excited.” Specter came around and patted his shoulder while Tech checked his scanner.

“I’ve still got a lock on Echo’s signal.” 

“All right, men.” Hunter readied his blaster and led the way to the corridor. “Let’s hunt some droids.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Droids on patrol marched through the hall, though they didn’t detect the door opening and Hunter peeking out. He motioned Specter forward and nodded; they stepped out, he shot the droids entering the area while she destroyed the ones that passed, clearing the way for Skywalker to step into the hallway. 

“Where exactly is Echo’s signal coming from?” he asked Tech. The clone adjusted his goggles as he looked at his datapad.

“Strange. I just lost the signal.”

“What? How can that be?” Rex asked, removing his helmet. “There’s no ‘atmospheric disturbances’ up here.”

“Well, I have a new theory. I’m surprised I did not consider it earlier,” Tech shook his head. “The signal is only traceable during data transmissions. So until Echo dispenses more intel, I cannot pick up the signal.”

“Okay, we’re splitting up. Search every door,” the General began to order, “If someone finds Echo, contact the others. We go in together, just in case there’s trouble.” Specter and Crosshair split with the General while the others went down the other way. She found nothing in the doors she checked, only storage containers and maintenance supplies. 

Specter had a very hard time believing a clone like Echo could have survived the attack on the citadel, but she knew if it was one of her squadmates, she would be just as adamant to rescue them as Rex was. But like Tech, she was logical enough to know that the chances of Echo actually being alive were low. But not zero. 

A commotion caught her attention: muffled blaster fire and a lightsaber. The clone ran towards Anakin, configuring her blaster into a sniper rifle; she got there just in time, shooting down the droids before they could attack again. The Jedi stood up, calmly walking towards her.

“Thanks for the backup.”

“No problem, General,” she said, giving a two-fingered salute.

“Hey, where did you get that weapon? I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it,” he asked as they walked down the hall.

“I doubt you would’ve. Tech and Crosshair designed and built it after I saved them on a mission from Corellia… and took care of them when they caught Corellian fever,” she snickered.

“You didn’t have to mention that,” Crosshair hissed, coming up beside them.

“Too late, Cross,” she teased, patting the side of his helmet. He swatted her hand away. “But I was the one who helped engineer the reconfiguring mechanism.”

“Clever,” the Jedi complimented. 

“Don’t let it get to her head,” Crosshair warned.

“Hey, how about when you— did you guys hear something?” Specter stopped herself, suddenly perking up. The others heard it too; sounds of droids and blasters being fired. 

“Sounds like trouble. Let’s move,” the General ordered.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It seemed the three had arrived just in time to even the odds against the droids attacking the rest of the team. Anakin used the Force to push a group out of his way, swinging his lightsaber to cut them and deflect their shots. Hunter took the opportunity to go on the offensive, Wrecker, Tech, and Rex joined in. The Sergeant held up a droid by the neck, ready to punch its head off, but Crosshair came in and shot it off for him. A whistle sounded, Specter came running in, taking a position by Wrecker.

“Hey, swing me around,” she said.

“Like on Mon Cala?” he asked, shooting a few droids.

“What? No, like on Ryloth.” They hooked their arms around each other and he spun, swinging Specter around to shoot and kick at the rest of the droids near them. The Jedi stabbed the last one. “Mon Cala… you didn’t swing me, you threw me. Underwater,” Specter mumbled. More blaster fire filled the hallway, even more droids were coming. The team took defensive positions in the side of the room. 

“Tech, open that door for Rex!” Anakin ordered over the noise. 

“Yes, sir!” Tech nodded and ran to take care of the door.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for, Captain,” Hunter said, turning to acknowledge him. “Specter, you’re with them.” Rex and Specter ran to meet Tech who was able to get the door open and enter the room. It was filled with dimly lit panels and other controls. 

“I don’t like the look of this,” Specter heard Rex say— her back was turned, keeping an eye on the door and their other surroundings. 

“I’m definitely picking up a life-form in there,” Tech said, his scanner beeping in rapid succession. He investigated the controls, “It seems to be a stasis chamber. I think I can get it open.” Specter looked over her shoulder, Tech worked at the control panel and got the chamber open. 

The door hissed open and a form fell forward, only caught by the wires attached to—him. It was a body. Malnourished, disfigured, but a clone’s body nonetheless. Specter stifled a gasp at the sight. 

“Echo,” Rex breathed. “Tech, we’ve got to get him out of here. Figure out how to…  unplug him from… from this mess.” Rex frantically undid the line around his torso, laying the body down onto the floor, cables were still attached to Echo’s head. “What have they done to you?” Specter abandoned watching the door and turned to go help Rex, who had taken off his helmet.

“We… we have to get to the shuttle to escape the Citadel,” the soldier muttered. His eyes were open but unseeing, skin sickly and pale, body emaciated and drawn. Both his legs and his right arm were replaced by cybernetic parts.

“He’s stable, but blood sugar is low,” Specter reported, removing her helmet and taking out a small flashlight. She shined it in his eyes, they were dilated and unfocused. “He’s in there but barely. Hallucinating. Oxygen in his brain must be low too, his heartbeat is irregular.” She felt his pulse on his wrist and by his neck.

“No! I’ll go first,” Echo continued in his hallucination, reaching out. Rex gently shook him.

“Echo,” he pleaded. “Echo, it’s Rex. I’m here.” The pale clone calmed down, his eyes came into focus.

“Rex? You, you came back for me,” he breathed, reaching to touch Rex.

“Yes. Yes, I did,” Rex assured. 

“What? What happened? Where am I?” Echo looked around.

“Yeah, he’s coming around alright. It’s okay, soldier. You’re safe now,” she assured.

“Just sit tight, Echo,” Rex said, “You’re going home.”

[clonemedickix]

OC General Lara Lin (Telperion Laurelin), Commander of the Dragon Company, Guardian of the Balance and Guide of Souls

Dragon Company 1st Officer: Lt Primer

Dragon Company Sergeants: Boost and Deuce

Dragon Company Chief Medical Officer: Volte

Things about Lara: An immortal goddess, created to guard the Balance between the Light and the Dark. The source of the Force, living and cosmic. Created by Eru Iluvatar as a safeguard and ultimate weapon against enemies such as Morgoth the Deceiver, his lieutenant Sauron, and any in that vein. A visitor to the Star Wars galaxy, there to offer her assistance in their war.

Personality: feisty, generally happy if not slightly jaded. A little crass at times, spends most of her time off duty in the American South and so speaks with a drawl mixed from Northeast Louisiana/Southeast Texas (think if Duck Dynasty mated with east Texas). Known to occasionally let fly with curse words. Not above a little pranking, especially against people that annoy her. Loyal, capable of deeply loving, a strong, agile and experienced warrior. Does not handle the loss of loved ones well; swore off personal relationships for this reason. A complete sucker for a clone in uniform.

Rating: EXPLICIT

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence / Adult Themes and Relationships / UNDER 18 DNI

Category: F/M

Fandoms: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon)Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media TypesThe Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. TolkienGame of Thrones (TV)Star Wars - All Media Types

Relationship: CT-7567 | Rex/Original Female Character(s)

Characters: CT-7567 | Rex | CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo | CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives | Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) | Tech (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) | Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) | Crosshair (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) | CC-2224 | Cody | Obi-Wan Kenobi | Mace Windu | Clone Troopers (Star Wars) | CT-5597 | JesseCT-6116 | Kix | Clone Trooper Hardcase (Star Wars) | Cut Lawquane | Suu Lawquane | Yoda (Star Wars) | Plo Koon | CC-3636 | Wolffe | Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious | Padmé Amidala | Ahsoka Tano

Excerpt:

The sound of lightsaber on steel rang through the room as Lara and Skywalker fought in the ring. Rex saw Ahsoka Tano standing by Cody, watching the sparring match; Lara’s lieutenant, Primer, was also there watching in silence, almost as if coaching her movements. Lara needed no coaching, but he knew Primer’s heart was in the right place; he of course wanted his general to win. Rex stepped up quietly to stand next to Cody’s other side. The door behind opened once more and General Kenobi walked in, his face full of curiosity. Kenobi walked up to watch with the other spectators, on Primer’s right side, cheering very quietly as Lara blocked a blow from Anakin he’d aimed at her back; she’d reached back with her great sword to protect her rear and then spun quickly away from him, bringing her short sword around to take her own swipe at him. The two danced around the fighting ring, graceful and sure in their skills; everyone could tell they were enjoying their battle. Anakin used many Force assisted leaps and flips to stay out of her range, while Lara used her quickness and reach to close on him frequently. She knew more tricks than he did, and she spun beneath his saber, her mail shirt’s small skirt flaring in the air. She took a couple quick steps, dropped to her knees and slid beneath Anakin, flaring backwards and bringing her two swords up together as a single instrument to block, then she hopped back up to her feet and spun, leaping and swinging one powerfully aimed boot around to kick Anakin square in his chest. It knocked the wind right out of him and he collapsed to the mat with a thud. Obi Wan laughed out loud; he always loved to see his old padawan bested in a match. Ahsoka groaned; she had thought he had a chance this time, but towards the end of the fight she’d seen Lara’s concentration increase, realizing that as usual she’d only been dedicating about half of her skill to the game.

Lara took a breath; the fight had been hard enough that she was slightly winded, and felt it had been a very good contest this time. She put her great sword back in its sheath over her shoulder and reached her hand down to Anakin to help him up. He groaned in a little laugh, took her hand and let her pull him to his feet. “I’m going to have your boot print on my chest for a week, Lara.” He rubbed it carefully; she’d kicked him about as hard as an angry mule.

Lara smiled at him and replied very quietly, so only he heard her, “Be sure to tell Padme it’s from me.” She winked at him with an even bigger smile as he laughed at that rejoinder. They turned to move over to their spectators, and Lara glanced towards Rex, seeing him watching her quietly. She paused only for the tiniest fraction of an instant, seeing his face, then she moved over to Primer and Cody.

“That was a great move, General. I’ll have to see if I can copy it next time we fight.” Primer took her hand in a warm move of greeting.

Kenobi smiled at her and nodded. “I think we could all learn a thing or two from your fighting styles. That was a good match to watch. Good to see you back, as well, General Lin.” He gave her something of a wistful smile, and tipped his head in a way she knew was mean to convey condolences for her loss.

“Thank you, Obi Wan. I wish the circumstances were a little happier, but it’s good to be back.”

“Yes well, since you ARE here, I’m sure we can find some way to put your skills to use. Anakin, we are needed at the Temple. Ahsoka, you too.” He looked to his fellow Jedi, about like a mother hen herding her chicks toward the coop. Anakin gave Lara a little fist bump as he walked off with Obi Wan; she knew she’d see them in the next few days and they would update her on any needs or deployment plans. Kenobi walked a few paces away and then stopped, turning back to Lara. “Oh Lara, I meant to ask you - General Windu received a strange crate of supplies the other day on deployment from the quartermaster; it seems a large satchel of rubber phalluses in assorted sizes and colors arrived to him, with a note that said ‘Eat me.’ You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

A huge whoop of laughter escaped Anakin before he could stop it; he covered it by suddenly faking a coughing fit into his sleeve and looking away. Ahsoka asked him, “What’s a ‘phallus’?” Obi Wan’s eyes cut over to Ahsoka and Anakin quickly, his brows scrunching together in what he hoped was a signal to get her moving. Anakin put a hand around Ahsoka’s shoulders and steered her toward the door, still choking on his laughter and tears running down his face.

Primer and Cody both heard the short conversation and their eyebrows about touched the ceilings; they looked at Lara’s face and saw her head suddenly come up, a tiny smirk lit the corner of her mouth and then her countenance went carefully blank, an expression of consternation and shock in her eyes. “I can’t IMAGINE who would do such a thing, Obi Wan! How the neighbors will talk! I do declare!” She drawled the words out, doing her best to keep her appearance one of innocent, amazed outrage and surprise. Kenobi stared at her flatly, waiting for her to finish her little play. “For heaven’s sake….? Bless his heart?…. No? Not working for you?” She finally gave him a little smile while showing her teeth in an exaggerated grimace and cocking her head a little to look from under her lashes.

”You’re a terrible moral example, Telperion Laurelin.” Lara gave him a very false but endearing look of contrition, and Obi Wan turned to leave. He called back over his shoulder, “Next time, don’t sign the requisition ‘Hugs and kisses, Obi Wan’, please.” Lara pursed her lips together as hard as she could to hold in the laughter that wanted to escape, until the door closed behind him. Then she sputtered out in giggles, made even worse when she looked over at her lieutenant and Kenobi’s clone commander. They were both still staring at her like they didn’t know what to do with her. The laughter in her eyes made it hard for them to hold it against her, plus… it was pretty funny. The two men shared a look and then shook their heads at her incorrigible actions.

[fives-girlfriend]

A/N: New here? Start at First Impressions, part 1!

Lockdown, part 2

Perhaps Asha isn't as much of an outsider with Clone Force 99 as she thinks she is.

Read Part 1

Characters: TBB, OC (Asha Kurr)

Warnings: Minor descriptions of injuries, some mild dissociation, general anxiety. Not much in terms of bad.

Word count: 2,404

-----------------------------------------------

Asha could hardly recall the rendezvous. Everything was an adrenaline-addled blur; she remembered Echo's voice over comms, informing them that they were in position. She remembered hearing the thudding of footsteps and nearly jerking out her blaster on instinct until she saw Tech and Crosshair coming up the rise. She hardly remembered when Hunter and Wrecker arrived a minute later, smelling of smoke and burnt fuel. The six of them made a mad dash for the ship, and from then, Asha could finally let the ringing in her ears fade. Her entire body was on autopilot as they left planetside; she sat down in one of the crash seats, and from within the cockpit, she could hear Hunter and Echo reconvening while Tech got them all into hyperspace.

"I couldn't get much before the lockdown hit," Echo stated, "nothing that we don't already know. But I think I might've been able to pull a base of operations, a larger outpost than the one we just hit. When I'm able, I'll upload the information to the Commander."

"It's better than nothing," Hunter sighed. "We got what we came for, that's what matters. How's your…?"

"...short," Echo replied with a hollow chuckle. "Emergency removal. It was either this, or take the outlet with us. We didn't have the time to cut through the wall. She can replace it soon enough, there should be spare parts in storage."

Everything fell silent after that, at least to Asha's perspective. She was already putting away her new gear, now smudged with dust and dirt and soot. She felt like she was floating, each motion nearly robotic as she stashed away her gear and ambled her way to find Echo. She still had to help him - check on him, see how he was doing. But before she could even think to reach him, a warm, calloused hand rested on her shoulder, partially yanking her from her daze.

Hunter looked down at her, and Asha could see in his eyes the moment their gazes met just how concerned he was. For a moment, she was puzzled - but it slowly dawned on her as she fully took in where it was that they were. They were in hyperspace now, and had been for at least several minutes. They had left the surface some time ago. She had hardly realized it - it had felt more like seconds. She was suddenly very acutely aware of how hard her heart was pounding, and she actually tried to will it to slow. And as if it were even possible, her crimson face flushed an even darker red in embarrassment and shame, tinting her white facial markings a rosy pink.

"...Asha, relax." Hunter's voice was low and even as he spoke, and Asha took a shaking breath. "It's done. You can breathe now. Echo told me what happened."

That somehow only served to worsen Asha's anxious tension, having been so lost in her own head that she hadn't even heard the conversation barely a room away. What did he tell him? That she nearly fell? That she panicked? That she had mutilated him, that she could hardly think the entire time?

Hunter sighed. He could hear the way her heart thudded even faster, and he moved to stand in front of her, both hands now resting on her shoulders. "You did good. You were caught in a situation neither of you were prepared for, and you adapted. The first field mission is never easy. As far as those go… you did exactly what you were supposed to."

Asha's breath caught, then slowly left her in a quiet exhale. She could see just the scarcest nod from Hunter - breathe. Just breathe. She did good. She did what she was supposed to. She…

"...I… have to go help Echo," Asha muttered, straightening herself up and rolling her shoulder. The knot in the muscle was painfully tense, and no doubt that her shirt was just barely covering a harsh bruise from pulling it so sharply… Hunter gave her a bit of a look, to which Asha could only sigh. "I'll take care of it once Echo and I are done, okay? I'll live. It's just a pulled muscle."

"Just… let us know if we can help," Hunter said softly, giving her a small pat on her uninjured shoulder before dipping away back into the ship proper. Asha smiled for a moment, gentle and fond, before carefully making her way down into storage to find a replacement scomp, no doubt buried under the errant piles of scrap she and Tech had both jointly accumulated.

—

"Echo?" Asha called out as she stepped into the cockpit, a few things in her arms - a replacement scomp, her toolkit, a small twist-jar of bacta gel for bruising. "Got a sec?"

Echo was currently occupying the copilot seat, and when he swiveled around to look at her, he took in all she was holding and actually smiled. "There you are. Come on, let's get to it - I just wanna get this over with, if… that's alright with you."

"Perfectly fine," Asha said softly as she set down everything she had and knelt down in front of him, picking up the scomp and lining it up with its port. "Want me to walk you through it again?"

"...not this time," Echo responded, a bit quieter. "If- if you wouldn't mind. I kind of just want it to be done with."

"Fine by me." Asha didn't argue, and instead set straight to work. "I've done this fix a million times before, okay? I'm gonna deactivate the pros-"

Echo shot her a look, and she quickly shut her mouth. Force of habit, she realized. Wordlessly, Asha deactivated his prosthetic arm, and set to work on reattaching the scomp to its port. It was a silent procedure, at least. Everyone seemed rather tired out from the mission, and decompression was sorely needed. The fix, all in all, took maybe five minutes. The second she was done, Asha reactivated his arm, and sat back on her haunches with a smile. "And there we go. Move your elbow for me?"

Echo did so, going through the motions as he tested out the maneuverability of his arm once again.

"Good. Wanna just, plug into the outlet real quick so we can make sure it works? I've no doubt in my work, of course, it's just a routine diagnostic and-"

"And now you're sounding like Tech," Echo replied with a small smirk, earning a gaping look from Asha that quickly melted into a laugh the second she noticed that the aforementioned pilot had turned to look at them, an incredulous look on his face. Asha was right, though - her work was flawless. When plugged in, his arm was as good as new.

Satisfied, Asha opted to take the now-unoccupied copilot seat, and work on applying the bacta gel she had brought along to her pulled shoulder. However, upon moving to shift her arm out of its sleeve, she hissed in pain and had to stop. Her range of movement was now severely stunted thanks to that strained muscle, and even just getting it out of her shirt to try and heal it was proving problematic. Frustrated and embarrassed, Asha started to stand so she could go somewhere private to try and work it out, but she was stopped when a surprisingly gentle hand settled on her uninjured shoulder.

"Let me help," Echo said softly, as he stepped behind Asha. "Here, lean forward a bit. What do you need?"

His forwardness genuinely shocked her, all things considered. In her mind, she was still more or less just a nuisance to this squad - a very stubborn nuisance, one that was determined to do what she was assigned to do, and make friends while doing it. She felt that her presence was an inconvenience to them at best. But when Echo asked that gentle question - what do you need? - a slight flush came to Asha's face as she glanced over her shoulder.

"...I-I just wanna get my arm out of my sleeve so I can- so I can get this gel on my shoulder. I pulled it when you caught me from falling off the roof back there, heh…" she muttered, rather embarrassed by her vulnerability. A certain look crossed Echo's face, and he lightly shook his head while he moved to start helping her carefully shift her arm out of the confines of her top, a little bit at a time.

"You're never going to stop helping me before taking care of yourself, aren't you? This is the second time already, Asha," he chided her, but nothing in his tone even hinted at the idea of anger. Asha let out an airy chuckle, not looking back at him but instead keeping her gaze forward at the endless expanse of hyperspace outside.

"It's my job to help you, Echo. Simple as that."

"Is that the only reason you're so adamant, then? Just because it's your job?" he asked, adding on a small "Here, hold this for me." as he passed the small jar of gel to Asha for her to hold. Practiced fingers smeared the cool blue substance onto the harsh bruise that was forming on her strained muscle, and her form sagged in relief as the ache began to ease.

"...started out that way," Asha mumbled. "Rex sent me here. He and I worked together before, and I don't take his orders lightly. I was… determined to do right by him. Then I actually started getting to know you guys, and…"

She trailed off as Echo finished applying the medicine, and she went to close the jar again, already starting to feel better thanks to his help. "I realized really quickly that this wasn't just another deployment. I… I hadn't worked with another battalion since I left the 501st, so I was… I-I was keeping things stiff and rigid. I wanted to keep a distance."

"You are remarkably bad at that," Tech suddenly spoke up from the pilot's seat, making Asha jump - she had genuinely forgotten he was there. When he saw the scandalized look on her face, he tilted his head slightly as if confused by her reaction. "I'm only speaking based on my observations. You've shown from the moment you set foot into our barracks that you have a remarkable tendency to get attached to people quickly. Keeping your distance was never an option for you, I figured that much was obvious."

Asha was dumbfounded, and she heard a quick exhale behind her that she knew was a split-second attempt at hiding a laugh. She rolled her eyes and moved to stand up, looking all sorts of playfully annoyed. "You guys are the worst. So what if I wanna actually be your friend now, huh? Would that really be so bad?"

Echo sighed, and he looked over to Asha with a gentle smile. She'd shown him by now what it is she was capable of - how she treated them. This wasn't just another assignment to her, despite how much she cited it as such. "No, Asha… that wouldn't be bad at all."

—

The gunner loft was Asha's sanctuary. Whenever she wanted space, or just a place to be comfortable, this was the spot to do it. That sanctuary wasn't going to last for much longer at the moment though, not as Asha peeked up from her datapad at the first hint of movement out of the corner of her eye. And there Crosshair stood in front of the ladder leading up, his perpetual scowl somehow deepened, body tense, an air of such utter vitriol emanating from him that it made Asha's heart pick up. He didn't even wait for her to speak, cutting her off the moment she opened her mouth.

"I don't know what it is you're playing at, or how you've got everyone fooled," he spat, "but you're going to have to try harder than that."

"Wh- what-?" Asha quickly tried to retort, but Crosshair was as quick on the draw as ever.

"Don't play dumb, mechanic," he continued. "Humor me. Your record showed that you went months without any contact whatsoever from the army. You left your old assignment - not dismissed, left - and went radio silent. What happened between you and the 501st, hm? If you're so adamant about being friendly, why don't you go ahead and tell us what you're hiding-"

“Crosshair!” Hunter’s voice cut the air like a knife, silencing his brother as he quickly stepped forward to put himself between the two. Asha looked genuinely startled, and Crosshair somehow looked even more bitter than before. “That’s enough. What’s gotten into you?”

Crosshair didn’t grace Hunter with a response. Instead, he backed down – not without shooting a glare to both Asha and his brother, before stalking off to head below deck. Hunter didn’t flinch, and Asha let out a low, anxiety-riddled sigh. Hunter was, at this point, entirely used to her heart pounding in fear and worry, and he turned to face her with a calm, but remorseful expression. “...I’m sorry, Asha. He’s… never been one to trust outsiders. He’ll come around eventually.”

“Yeah, I… I’m used to being the odd one out, heh,” Asha replied with a hollow chuckle, setting down her datapad. “Believe me, I’ve gotten way worse than some weird accusations thrown around at me. I… I’ll cope with it.”

“...well, if it means anything to you,” Hunter began, a small smirk drawing up on his lips, “we’re all the odd ones out in this squad. So to me, it seems like you fit right in.”

At that, Asha actually laughed – and Hunter could count it as a win that he got her to smile. With the tension dissipated, eventually Asha was once again left alone – and a certain sort of quiet descended over her as she watched hyperspace swirl by from outside the gunner loft. She was free to let her mind wander, and it kept wandering back to Crosshair’s accusation.

She never wanted to leave the 501st, not really. She traced shapeless patterns on the back of her hand as she stared out the window, and leaned her head back as her eyes eventually slipped closed, lost in thought. At least she still had their memories, she thought.

A few silent tears slipped down her cheeks.

At least she still had their memories together.

[annwayne]

The Red Logs: Return to the Temple Ch. 17

Chapter 17: Another Life

Last Chapter <- -> Next Chapter

Fem!OC X Crosshair

Word Count: 2297

Fic Summary:

There are benefits to owning a clone bar. Underworld lords don’t threaten you to pay for protection. Clones are great company. And the drinks taste great. However, there are also risks to owning a clone bar. Like, for example, becoming the fuck buddy of a special clone task force member so your life gets threatened when a Separatist puts out a bounty for your capture in order to use you as blackmail. Also your sleep schedule gets wrecked. But Anya Tougt is a little more capable than an average bar owner.

Ao3 Link Here

Warnings apply to whole fic:

Canon typical violence, descriptions of panic attacks, alcohol, swearing, 18+ themes (eventual smut), trauma, religious trauma parallels, mild gore

Authors Note:

What is pacing? We don't know about pacing. Sorry lol.

24 BBY. Tomorrow Kenobi, Anakin, and Master Tali and I are going to visit Mandalore on a diplomatic mission. With tensions in the senate rising, Chancellor Palpatine wants to know where Mandalore stands if a civil war breaks out. When I asked Yoda why send all four of us he mentioned there were forces upset with the change of Manalorian customs.

Twenty minutes later, I stepped out of the Jedi Temple dressed in civilian clothes. All signs that I was a Jedi stuffed into a bag on the brink of bursting. Everything packed away, except my saber which I tucked into the cloth belt that hugged my waist. It too, hidden from view.

The strap of my duffle dug into my shoulder as I rushed to the taxi platform. My bag thudded at my feet as I waved for a free taxi. I glanced at the chronos posted on the various screens and advertisements floating around the city-planet. It was well into the bar’s rush hour now.

Getting changed only took me five minutes. Getting everything put away, that took much longer than I hoped. No doubt Crosshair was there, waiting, possibly asking Jayas about me. I shook my head at the thought. Jayas was too lousy a liar and Crosshair was too damn perceptive. My nerves buzzed as the taxi driver took my address.

Fifteen terrifying minutes passed and I remembered why I rarely used the cab system on Coruscant. But finally, finally, I was home.

I practically ran out of the speeder, tossing a handful of credits as I went. It must have been more than enough, because I didn’t hear any complaints from the driver. Quickly, I ran down the alley to the backdoor and pulled out my keys. The door opened with a soft click. No one was in the immediate hallway. I leaned back against the cool metal door and let out a sigh.

“You’ll fucking pay for that!”

Irritation pulled my brows together and tugged my lips down.

“You’re swaying like a two legged droideka, you couldn’t hurt a tooka!”

A sigh left my lips as I pushed myself off the metal door. I tossed my duffle over by the door that led to my loft and marched to the bar.

“Good thing you’re not a tooka!”

Two clones stood by the bar, both surrounded by others interested in a fight or watching one. They were regulars I recognized, Jint and Catcher, friends, the last I saw them. Just before the pair could throw their fists, I jumped onto the bar counter and whistled. After the sharp noise caught the attention of anyone within a block radius, I dropped down and stepped between the clones.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing in my bar?!”

Instead of an answer, I got a welcome.

“Miss Anya?”

“Anya’s back!”

The crowd of clones turned into a swarm, as regulars and drunks swept up in the craze surrounded me. Questions went unanswered as too many voices tried talking to me. Somehow I ended up on Catcher’s shoulders. He paraded me through the bar as the clones all chanted my name. They were exceptionally drunk tonight. From my throne I spotted black and red armor leaning in a dark corner.

“Ok, okay, you’ve had your fun.” Jint helped me down from Catcher’s shoulders. They laughed together, reminiscing on won battles, whatever they were arguing about before now completely forgotten. Without someone to parade above the heads of clones in the bar, the chanting died down and the crowd of clones around me dispersed. Or rather, they were drunk enough to not notice when I left.

“That was some homecoming.” Crosshair’s voice greeted me before I saw his face, the dark lighting obscuring his expression.

“You weren’t here last time. That was a homecoming.” I smirked, though it didn’t stay for long.

“Another rare booze run?”

I leaned against the wall beside him, my arm brushing against his armor. “No, actually.”

In the corner of my eye I caught his head turning to face me. “How informative.”

“Answered your question, didn’t it?” Normally I’d be smiling at this part, this game of tooka and mouse we so often played.

He turned fully, resting his side against the wall and crossing a foot behind the other. “You’re making me ask?” A hint of a grin laced his words. “What sort of business was this last trip of yours, Miss Anya.”

At his use of my title I snickered and shook my head. “That just sounds weird coming from you.”

“Well, Miss Anya, I believe there’s only one thing that’ll get me to stop saying it now.”

I shook my head, then turned to face the clone. “You’re the worst, you know?”

“Would you have me any other way?”

“Alright alright,” I opened my mouth, but found only air. Maybe I should have said it was a beer run. “Well, it was,” The only word that came to mind fell from my lips like sand. “Family.”

His eyes widened, then narrowed. “I didn’t know you had family.”

“Yeah, there’s a reason for that.” I mumbled, looking past his eyes at the wall beside them. If Obi-Wan ever found out I called him family, he’d never let me live it down. But in a way, it was true. “Anyway, I’m exhausted and come back to a bar fight?”

Crosshair wore an inquisitive expression, though on him it looked more like a glare than someone in deep thought. He answered absentmindedly “Yeah.. Something about Lyn getting arrested.”

“What?” Surprise jolted me up.

My sudden movement caught Crosshair’s attention long enough to drop that not-scowl. “You didn’t know?” Now confusion colored his features.

There was no helmet to hide my expressions now. “I need to go talk to Jayas.” I turned towards the bar, took a step, then turned back. “Come up in twenty, I wanna clean up a bit.”

That confused expression didn’t budge, but Crosshair nodded. He leaned back against the wall again, and pulled out a toothpick. There wasn’t time to get lost watching his lips, so I turned quickly and scanned the floor. Jayas wasn’t anywhere to be seen, same as when I first came out onto the bar. Instead, Fathal and a single weequay worked the bar. The Weequay mostly filled taps and passed any mixed drink orders to his co-worker. So, Jayas managed to hire someone?

“I’m sorry, ma’am, you can’t come back here.” The weequay was chest deep in orders, and still noticed as I stepped behind the bar. “This is an employees only area.”

“Well-” I glanced past the weekquay, catching Fathal’s eye.

His starry eyes narrowed, and the rodian called out. “Yer ears work’n Qwon? That there’s Miss Anya.”

The weequay, Qwon, looked between the rodian and I, mouth open slightly.

“Your boss.” I mustered a smile, then stepped past Qwon to Fathal. “Jayas in the office?” The rodian gave me a nod. “Thanks, Fathal.” He hummed a response as I stepped through the swinging doors to the back. A knock later, I heard a gruff voice answer.

“Sorry, Fathal. Jeya’s running late and these tax forms are taking longer than-” Jayas lost his words as he looked up and saw me step into the office. “Anya!” He jumped out of his seat, causing the desk to skirt forward from the sudden movement.

“Jayas.” I grinned. Relief flooded my chest at the sight of him. His eyes were a little more sunk then normal, and a line I hadn’t seen before creased his forehead. “It’s so good to see you.”

He fumbled past the traps of files and furniture till he held me in a hug almost as tight as the ones Wrecker gave. “Kid, you had me scared shitless.”

“Yep, I do that. Need to breathe, Jayas.” I gasped and he chuckled, only loosening his grip slightly.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. Maker, not knowing for all this time has been hell.” Jayas leaned back to meet my eye. “Promise me you’ll never get a bounty on you again.”

That earned a breath of a laugh from me. “It’s not like I get much say about that.”

Jayas scoffed at my answer and then finally he let me go from his hug. He stepped back and gave me a look over. “Have you gained weight?”

“Wow.” I laughed, twisting my eyebrows up. “Didn’t think I needed to be the one to tell you commenting on someone’s weight is rude.”

“No, I meant,” He rubbed his chin. “Hugging you, it feels different. Like, your arms and shoulders have more to them.”

“I was gone awhile.” I shrugged. If Jayas noticed the results of my training, then Crosshair was likely to as well. So what, I worked out while helping family? That didn’t make any sense.

“Yes, of course. Speaking of, you look exhausted.”

“Well, you’re not one to talk.”

Jayas rubbed the back of his head and avoided my eyes. “Yeah, things have been interesting around here. No time to relax.”

“Lyn.” Her name still hurt my tongue.

He glanced my way before speaking again. “Yeah, you heard? She got arrested for treason. Clones came and hauled her away a little more than a week ago.” Jayas fidgeted with a bolt on his cybernetic arm as he talked.

“Clones?” Not the police? Jayas nodded his head, his eyes sharing the same question. My gaze fell to the floor as I weighed the information. I couldn’t risk messaging him tonight, but Tech had to know something about this.

“Any chance it was related to your absence?” Jaya’s question brought my eyes back up.

My lower lip slipped between my teeth before I answered. “More than a chance.”

Jayas dropped his gaze again. We stood uncomfortably in the office, sounds of music and laughter pouring in from the bar. Eventually, I felt a metal hand grip my shoulder.

“We’ll sort that out later. For now, don’t worry about the bar. Relax and get back into the rhythm of things.” Jayas gave me a soft smile, similar to the ones I’d seen him give his kids.

“But-”

He shook his head, interrupting my argument before I could even give it. “You’re exhausted. I don’t think I’ve seen circles that dark under your eyes since I first met you. So get some sleep and enjoy some time with that clone you fancy.” He winked, earning a grin from me. “The bar will be waiting, and then I can catch you up to speed on everything and you can tell me what being locked up in some safe house for nearly a month was like.”

“..Yeah.” My grin slowly fell, but by then Jayas had turned to open the door of the office. “What about Stinky? I still need to pick him up.”

Jayas stood on the doorway and bat the air at my question. “Oh, he’s fine waiting a night. I can bring him by in the morning.”

Relief, instantly followed by guilt, filled my sigh. Stinky was a tough Tooka, but this was a long time apart. A good person would fight their exhaustion and pick up their animal companion. “That would be wonderful, thank you.” I gave Jayas a weak smile.

He nodded, once and I exited the office, letting him move out of the door frame so it could close. I picked up my duffle, stifling a groan as my tired muscles cried against me. Before exiting to the stairs of my loft, I turned and called Jayas.

“Hey, Jayas?”

“Yeah kid?” He stopped at the double doors leading to the bar.

“Thanks.”

He stood there, holding the door with one silver hand and one dark one, and looked me over with eyes I had seen few times before. Once being the first time he met me. “Anytime, Miss Anya.” Then he stepped back into the bar.

Something turned over in my gut at those eyes, but I could worry about it later. Now I wanted to shower. Every step up the stairs felt like a trek, but eventually, I made it to my front door.

Inside, it was quiet. Of course, Stinky wasn’t here to greet me, but it was almost like I could feel my absence in the loft. The place felt so still. Somehow, it felt like it would always be this way. But this was my home, and that wasn’t so.

Crossing into my bedroom seemingly gave me a boost of energy. Suddenly the weight on my eyes had lifted and my shoulders weren’t hunched over. Of course, I needed to hurry. Crosshair would be up in approximately 15 minutes, and I needed to stash all evidence of being ‘Annie the Padawan’ somewhere his curious reticle wouldn’t find.

The normal stuff was easy, toothbrush, hairbrush, underwear. That could be put away like regular. But blacks, my Jedi robes, lightsaber, and armor needed more thought. The box under my bed could hold the clothes, but it wasn’t big enough for the armor. Now that the duffle bag was mostly empty, the armor actually fit rather well. I zipped up the bag and slid it under my bed. Looked normal enough.

That just left my lightsaber. Sure, it could fit in the duffle or the force-locked box like before, but that felt wrong. I needed it close to me. Easy access. What was I thinking? This was a weapon I thought I’d never touch again, and yet here I was wanting to keep it close. As I scanned my bedroom my eyes landed on the nightstand by my pillow. I couldn’t? Could I?

Authors end chapter notes:

Did you expect Tali to be arrested when Anya got home? Where do you think the lightsaber will be hidden?

Dividers by Djarrex   

Tag list: @midnight-sun-0

[filamentlights]

Small Talk (Manipulative)

Clone x OC Week - Day 1, Introduction || Rex x OC

Event Masterlist

SUMMARY: Undercover on the gleaming streets of Separatist planet Dio Ambra, Rex finds himself with the unusual problem of having a woman jump into his passenger seat and scream at him to drive like she owned the vehicle. Liya, gutter rat extraordinaire, pries her way through Rex’s standoffish behavior (and under his skin).

Word count: 3k

Tags & Warnings: cursing, canon typical violence, brief allusions to slavery, high speed chase across vaguely European-esque planet, Rex is So Done

“DRIVE, FUCKING DRIVE!”

That was all Rex had processed as the woman waved her hand clutching a pair of strappy heels launched herself into their speeder. Her sparkly white dress shimmered in the sun. Rex could only blanch as she whipped her head over, glaring as if to say well, what are you waiting for? Were he a weaker man, he would’ve flinched.

He opened his mouth to reply, not sure whether to be baffled, indignant, or both, but the blaring sirens cut him off. The tinny voices of droids buzzed.

“Go, we’ve got to go,” she barked. Left with few other options, Rex revved up the landspeeder and swiftly peeled away from the sidewalk.

“Left here,” she ordered.

He obeyed. Swerving past a flock of chittering birds, he caught a glimpse of flashing red and blue. Blaster bolts rang out. Behind them, police droids on speeders gave chase.

“Turn right!” She yelled, hair flying as she ducked. Reeling her arm back, she launched a gleaming heel which slammed square into a droid’s dome, knocking it off its speeder onto the street.

“Where are we- kriff!” He swerved to avoid a crowd of pedestrians. More blaster shots zipped around his head. The woman hurled her other shoe with deadly accuracy.

“Where are your blasters for shit’s sake?”

“On my belt.” He yelled back, thrusters squealing as he tried avoiding flattening someone’s grandmother. “Who are you?”

“Waves crash- ugh, into a cliff,” she screeched. She grabbed one of his pistols from his belt holster and began shooting.

“You’re the informant?” He yelled incredulously. She fired, making some nearby civilians shriek and run towards the buildings to hide. He blared the speeder horn and wove around the others on the road. “Kriff, don’t just shoot wildly. The pedestrians-”

Three shots rang out, nailing two police droids straight in the head. Their metal bodies and speeders screeched into the road as they crashed.

“Tell your general to get a new code phrase that isn’t cringy as shit,” she spat back, still firing shots from behind the cover of the seat headrest. One more droid crackled and hit the cobbled road. Rex cussed as they neared the end of a road. “Left!”

Metal screeched against a building wall. They hurtled down a small road between tall white buildings. Rex tried not to think about the unfortunate porg who couldn’t get out of the way fast enough. They crashed through clotheslines and dumpsters until the road opened up.

“You drove us to a karking cul-de-sac?”

“Just keep driving.”

“It’s on a cliff!”

“JUST. GO.” She snarled and grabbed the steering wheel. Shoving the blaster in his hands, she took over.

“Cover me,” she barked. Gritting his teeth, Rex obeyed. Firing shots that went purposely wide to avoid hitting any of the cowering bystanders, he felt his body lurch. Tearing through someone’s unlucky flowerbeds, she drove them straight towards the open air between two small houses. Metal shrieked and suddenly, he felt the weightlessness of being airborne before gravity reasserted itself with a scream. Huh, oh he was screaming. He was also falling, which seemed like an unfortunate commonality in his life as of late.

They landed with a harsh thud that reverberated into his teeth. He slammed his palms against the dash as they hit the ground and bounced harshly. His body jerked up before slamming down, tailbone against hard plastoid. His spine trembled. Rex looked down. They’d landed on what upon a bit of squinting turned out to be apartment complexes knitted so tightly together that the speeder had no issues running along them. Sirens blared above, bringing Rex back to his senses. He grabbed the steering wheel. The woman beside him collapsed into her seat.

“That was close,” she remarked, awfully upbeat.

“It’s not over yet.” His reply was a touch sour. He couldn’t deny the small well of annoyance when she just smiled sunnily. “They can still catch us.”

“Yeah, but they won’t follow us over. They can't legally go onto the rich people property that we just tore through, so they’ll have to go around. Droids.” She mused. “No independent thought.”

Well, that he could agree with.

Liya pretended to shift her dress as she glanced over. There’s generally not much information on clone troopers outside the usual propaganda, much less anything that would indicate any sort of personality in the people that corporate oligarchs in the Senate are using as meat shields. The closest she’s heard was rumors amid the slums of Dio Ambra following a flood of refugees coming from Christophsis—and even then, there wasn't much. Whispers of helmeted troopers moving so synchronously they seemed like shifting white sand dunes from afar. Regardless, it figured she’d get stuck with who was probably the most poster-boy perfect soldier those elitist Kaminoans could come up with.

Shit, even his breathing looked metronomically timed.

Go figure.

Studying his side profile with an intensity that led her to think he was purposefully avoiding her gaze, Liya wondered what made this man tick. A clone soldier. There were conflicting stories on Dio Ambra from where and how they came about, but everyone agreed it was…odd. A perfect army that appeared the moment war broke out. This man, who was conveniently trapped in a vehicle with her nosy ass, was ostensibly the first outside news source she’s had since taking this mission on this insular “no war in Ba Sing Se” hellhole planet. Liya embraced this revelation, since it meant she could bug him.

“So,” she began coyly.

“So?” His tone was unamused. She smiled to herself.

“So,” her lips curled around the syllable and dragged it out playfully. “Scared of heights?”

He choked, but tried to disguise it as a cough.

“What gave you the impression?” His attempt at stoicism was cute, but he’d already given himself away much earlier.

“The screaming. Hope you aren’t too hoarse from that. I’d hate to tell Skywalker that I broke his favorite soldier.” She mused.

“General Skywalker doesn’t have… favorites.”

“Oh? Then why’d he send you on this trip, Sergeant?” Liya tossed her long hair back with a flippant smile.

“Captain.” He corrected. She watched him reel in his irritation with a smirk. “It’s Captain Rex.”

“Your name?”

He nodded.

“You chose that yourself?” She tried not to sound too derisive, she really did, but something in her tone made the man twitch. Maybe it was in the way she said “chose” or her intonation of “yourself.” Or maybe it was just the fact that she was nosing into his business when clearly he did not want conversation. Yes, she could indeed be self aware. Either way, she watched his hands tighten on the steering wheel. Oops, she needed to say something to lessen that. She wanted to get under his skin—play the vapid little princess—not genuinely piss him off.

“Rex,” she said, testing out the sounds. Liya continued blabbing. “It has quite a nice ring to it. Rolls off the tongue nicely. Captain Rex.”

“I’m not too familiar with natties but I’m pretty sure normally people introduce themselves after learning someone’s name.”

Well. Judging by the steely undertone to his words, she hadn’t been very successful in not offending him. She pulled on a winning smile that went largely ignored.

“You may call me Liya. I chose it myself too,” she said, tossing her hair.

“Whatever you say.”

Liya laughed, tossing her head back and arching her spine. Throwing her hands in the air, she basked in the perfect weather. The heat of the sun was offset by the salty ocean breeze. It was perfect weather for her slinky white midi that probably cost more than her. She felt his gaze trail her pale neck and down her peeking décolletage as the sun illuminated her perfect skin. Beneath sooty lashes, still giggling, she watched his ears redden.

Perfect soldier or no, he was still a man.

He cleared his throat.

“That wasn’t that funny.” His hands gripped the steering wheel as he kept his eyes fixed on the road.

She leaned forward onto the dashboard. Crossing her arms on the warm plastoid, she laid her head down and looked at Rex from under fluttering lashes. She watched his jaw tick. His hazel eyes stayed stuck on the road ahead.

Damn, she’d have to try harder.

“Awfully nice weather,” she commented when the silence drew too long. Her new friend seemed intent on ignoring her existence, but she was well versed in the art of talking a lot about nothing. Really, she’d make bank as a politician. “It’ll be the only thing I miss about this planet.”

He said nothing.

“I mean, the architecture is beautiful.” She continued. “They have some stunningly rich culture here. Nice pastries. Oh but, their tyrannical rulers are a bit of an issue. Money rules, right? And, terribly authoritarian over here. Couldn’t even get a proper Holonet connection to the outside; I had to send an email by printing it out on flimsi and mailing it.” Liya threw her hands up and looked at him aghast. Partly because she enjoyed being dramatic, and partly to watch his lips tighten disapprovingly at her purported diva behavior.

“That sounds awfully difficult.”

She snorted at his dry wit. He didn’t even try to mask his disdain. “Sarcasm? I expected better from you, captain.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Yes, but that’s what conversation is for,” she slouched, watching his jaw tighten. Pushing further, she added a snotty, “do keep up.”

She could feel his temper slipping.

She clicked her tongue loudly. His jaw ticked.

“You won’t even answer me?” Liya let out an exaggeratedly burdened sigh. “I’m hurt.”

“Just keep quiet until we get to the ship.” He snapped.

Bingo.

Liya huffed, injecting as much hurt into the puff of breath as she could. She crossed her arms and turned away to look at the passing landscape. Stretches of shitty quality apartments knitted together. They were riding right above the slums of Dio Ambra, where the unfortunate and impoverished lay out of sight and out of mind of their rich overlords. She waited a moment, and then another. And right as she thought she’d actually pushed him too far, she heard a small sigh.

“What brought you here?” His tone was about as excited as someone walking towards a noose, but she could sense he was feeling apologetic. Ha, can’t stand seeing a lady in distress, was it? What a noble soul. Content to let him suffer in his own guilt, she let silence reign for a moment.

“It was supposed to be a quick job.” She began slowly, trying to sound reluctant. Liya kept her head tilted away, propped up on one hand and facing the scenery. “Hired by some rich princess to play house for a little bit. Fill in as a bridesmaid, since she didn’t have enough friends, while doubling as protection. But then the princess grew a bit…attached. Never had any real friends before so naturally my charm and wit were enrapturing,” Liya drawled playfully, deigning to look his way again and catching his exasperated eye-roll.

“She wanted to keep me there because she said I was the only one she could trust and that I would never betray her and whatnot, someone probably should’ve socialized her when she was younger. Beyond those bratty high-society debutantes.” She picked at her delicately manicured hands. “Let her see what us poors and impoverished live like.” Liya tacked on sarcastically, “good character building experience, no?”

“Anyhow, threw a fit anytime I tried to leave. Kept hiring me for this and that. Even shut down the shuttle ports. Would’ve escaped earlier—I can’t stand people like her—but ol’ Obi called in a favor for me to stay and gather some intel on the low.” She finished dramatically, flippant but…pensive. “And that’s me.”

“Huh.”

She resisted an eye-roll. Men.

“You’re not a very good conversationalist, are you captain?”

“No, ma’am-”

“Don’t call me that,” she cut him off sharply. He blinked, but she turned away trying to reign herself in. Oops, accidentally had a mood swing like a trebuchet at a glass castle! She’d apologize but, oh well she wasn’t built like that.

“No,” he said, quieter and then he gathered the courage to offer an olive branch. Grinning cheekily, “I’m not great with conversation, but I bet I have you beat?”

Liya almost fell out of her seat with the strength of her scoff. “Bullshit. In what world-”

Rex huffed in amusement.

“In this one, since I know how to introduce myself-”

“Oh yes, ‘It’s Captain,’” she mocked his low tone. “Captain Rex.”

“Least I didn’t just jump into a stranger’s speeder.”

Liya snorted, letting loose a sharp grin.

“It clearly wasn’t like that, there were extenuating circumstances-”

“And that required screaming in my face?”

Rex almost felt like a cadet back in Basic, as her piercing eyes lasered into him like his old trainers. He kept his hands firmly on the steering wheel and refused to wipe his palms.

“The planetary police force was tipped off and had been searching for me, as we just witnessed, so I’m sure you can understand the hurry.” She sniffed, though he could tell she was fighting a smile.

“You sure didn’t look it.” The words escaped him before he thought any better.

Her head whipped towards him.

“What are you insinuating?”

“Nothing.” He reeled in the instinctive sir. “You just looked very relaxed.”

Her glare intensified. Admittedly, Rex had thought the woman quite pretty when he first saw her. Wandering down cobblestone streets barefoot in a fancy dress and looking lost as she swung her pair of heels in time with her leisurely stroll. Dark wavy hair reaching her back juxtaposing perfect porcelain skin. She looked like the floating ads on Coruscant, standing amidst villas and green grass with some shimmering slogan above her head. Something so foreign. He’d felt oddly voyeuristic, noticing reddening shoulders as she lifted a pale arm to block the sun from her eyes.

Maybe her dark eyes met his.

Maybe he glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck.

Not that he would remember, since the moment she spotted him—pretending to be just another civilian—she jumped into the speeder and began screaming at him to drive.

“Running tends to attract more attention and suspicion. Better to look like an inconspicuous wandering tourist who got lost than someone running away from something.”

“And then you jumped into a speeder and began screaming to drive.” Rex didn’t know what was driving him to speak this way. He tacked on, “inconspicuously.”

The resulting glare was withering. In his periphery, he watched her red lips pull into a wicked smile and tried not to think of his jumping heart rate. He was losing his mind probably. The heat was getting to him.

“Maybe I like the sun.”

His palms sweated.

“I like the feel of it.”

Left? Left turn here, right?

“It’s hot. I like it.”

For a moment, Rex’s mind goes off without him. Without his permission, a million scenarios run through his mind. This woman smiling at him. A white dress hugging her figure, so bright under the sunlight it hurt to look at her. And even if he did tear his eyes away, an imprint on his vision would stay. A salty ocean breeze. Perfect red lips. And he wondered, would they smear?

“Right,” he manages to remark, as casually as he could manage. His mind frantically searched for something to change the subject. “You said you chose your name?”

They were nearing the ship. He could almost regret the end of this liminal moment. Driving on this vast, endless plane under a millennium blue sky. Bantering with this woman about introductions and weather, both incongruously easy to do yet feeling constantly on his toes with her moods.

“Yes.” She replied after a moment. In his periphery, he watched her stretch in the sun and sigh shortly, like his very question irked her.

“Not going to deign this clone more of an answer?”

“No,” Liya snapped. “You don’t know me.”

“Isn’t that what conversation’s for?” Rex echoed her earlier words. A frigid silence greeted him. He felt the need to say something, to make up for it. He considered her for a moment.

“You know, I almost named myself The Thunderer when I was four. Well, eight in nat-years.”

“No.”

“Yes,” he cackled. “I tried insisting on only answering to that, even stole the datapad my trainer had to splice into the attendance records and change my name. He made me do a month of being a training dummy for the older classes and scrubbing freshers for it.”

Rex watched her giggle.

“Such a powerful name didn’t stick?” She wiped her tears, still stifling her laughs. He felt oddly proud to be the cause of that.

“Nope. None of my brothers would call me that. Flat out refused.”

Liya laughed, seeming softer under the setting sun. “They really saved you, then.” She breathed out and whispered, “I named myself after I killed the man who enslaved me.”

Oh.

Rex pulled the speeder to a stop a distance away from the ship.

He’d landed the ship in a patch of scattered overgrowth, just the right color that his ship blended in well enough against the grays and browns. Thorny vines dotted the ground precariously, crunching under his boots. Rex came around to open her door like a proper gentleman in those old timey holofilms as he thought about a proper answer for her. He was still contemplating how to tactfully answer when he looked down and realized.

“Carry me?” Liya grinned cattishly, kicking her bare feet. Right. She’d used her shoes as goddamn projectiles. Heaving an exaggerated sigh, Rex leaned forward and scooped her up, feigning a struggle to pick her up, which earned him a jab in the sternum. He lifted her easily. She tucked herself into him, looping an arm behind his neck, her breath ghosting along his neck.

The walk was both longer and shorter than he wished.

But before he set her down, Rex realized he hadn’t ever replied.

“It’s a good name.” She looked up, a dark eyebrow cocked in amusement. He smirked. “Liya. Rolls off the tongue nicely.”

“Hah.” Liya grinned up at him, eyes gleaming. Rex felt his heart stumble. “Yours too, Thunderer.”

“The Thunderer,” Rex corrected.

A/N: Now I think Rex is such a good dude and WOULD canonically try and keep up small talk with civs and generally be a decent guy, but I also do think he’d get annoyed at someone who’s clearly never lived a rough life and is acting like a total prima donna like Liya was. Then she hits him with her "eat the rich-ness" and he thinks he's in love but he's is NOT comfortable in that fact. She’s like the bad boy rule breaker that a clone would absolutely love and live vicariously through. Like she’s cursing out senators? Damn, that's a repressed desire of mine. I love you. 

hehe how'd I do :D @orangez3st. Also event tag! @clonexocweek

[annwayne]

Ooh very fun! Yes let’s give some of our older work some love too :3

Mix of SFW and NSFW (explicit) under cut. SFW posted first, then all nsfw posted.

The Red Logs: Return to the Temple

“Jesus, fuck, Crosshair can you not give me a heart attack after I just woke up?” In the mirror’s reflection I caught a small smirk from him. I turned around and threw the hand towel I used to dry my face at the slender clone.

How the Batch Reacts to Omega Dating

He’s wary, honestly all of them are wary, but they also know Omega, knows what they have all taught her. Hunter trusts her. At most, he’s worried about an imperial trap. So he does his due diligence to see if there’s anyway this other kid is connected to the Empire. Usually, everything checks out. He waits up until Omega gets home.

TBB Walks In on You.. Asleep

Hunter would strip down immediately and slide in right next to you. (He’s a naked sleeper and I’ll take no criticism) He won’t bother getting food, brushing his teeth or hair- he just sees how comfy you are and wants nothing more than to join in.

Human Fashion With Teyla and Todd

Cozy Sun Spot

AnnWayne's Cute and Spicy Star Wars Art Collection NSFW (cropped bc Tumblr 🤪)

Demons and Witches: OC Version NSFW

(There is also a reader version here)

Thudding music muffled as the door behind Anya clicked closed. Her boots thudded against gray concrete, occasionally splashing into shallow puddles. She took a deep breath of somewhat-fresh city air, noting the odd mixture of petrichor and petrol gas. Even with the limited light illuminating the alleyway Anya was able to make out a tall figure leaning against the brick of their building a few feet down. As she walked closer the silhouette of a toothpick flicked between the man’s lips.

Heightened Senses and Natural Perfumes: OC Version NSFW

(There is also a reader version here)

Steam slipped through the cracks of the refresher door as Hunter stood with his back against the hot shower. Droplets rained down his hunched back as he pumped his hard member. Water mixed with precum as he rolled a thumb over his puckered head. With each twist of his wrist Hunter held back grunts that would otherwise expose him. The others may not have enhanced senses, but these walls were thin.

Beauty and Espionage NSFW

Violin strings guided a sea of dancing couples through delicate steps on marble floors. Gold light bathed luxurious senators and gorgeous socialites gossiping below. Wines flowed freely as servants tended to the elite’s every need. This was Naboo, a planet famous for their rich art and philosophers. Consequently, Senator Amidala was famous for encouraging mingling between Republic and Separatist alike. This made the Festival of Light a breeding ground for the biggest game in the galaxy: espionage.

TBB Walks in on You NSFW

I'm a bit of a sucker for a size difference, so Wrecker holding you in his lap- ooh we'll get there. He may be a bit of a goof at times, but he's clearly attentive. So as he approaches the door I think he'll notice something is different.

NPT: @wolveria @nimata-beroya @bagheerita @chaniis-atlantis @all-mighty-yaoiyuri

Creator Self-Promotion

Rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics you posted. If you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

"But K, I don't write but I still create can I still play?"

Post your last 10 pieces and give us a play by play. What was the inspiration? Any fun facts you can share with us?

Anyway let's get on with it

1. Fishing for Compliments - Merman!Crosshair x F!Reader

A sigh passed the young woman’s lips as the sun began to disappear beneath the waves. The waves rocked her quaint vessel as if it were a mother soothing her child. Her meal as well as a plate of identical food remained untouched as she kept her gaze to the depths. Every ripple of its surface a reminder of the mounting minutes that her company kept her waiting.

2. Drop Me a Line - Wrecker x F!Reader

The young woman stifled a yawn as she continued to work the mass of dough to her standards to be plopped into pans to bake. She continued working the dough sparing glances to the chrono on the wall as the sky outside began to lighten with the sunrise. Her pulse spiked when the chrono was checked again. She abandoned the lump of dough as she snatched up a pastry box. The bell chiming as the door opened and closed.

3. Budding Romance - Rex x F!Reader

“And you’re sure you’ll have them there.”

“A bit of faith would be nice, Anakin.”

4. Skin in the Game - Wrecker x OC (Rina) (18+ Please view responsibly)

Wrecker was on the hunt. Thankfully the Marauder held only a few spaces to hide away as he searched the ship. His target tucked away by the sensors. Vibroblade twirling between his fingers while his idle gaze stared at the screen. The demolitions expert took a breath, hoping to find answers.

5. Hair Support - Tup x Reader

The days of the Clone Wars tended to drag on in between assignments. Thankfully, the Republic saw it fit to dispatch your research team with a clone legion escort to ensure the lush jungle planet would not eat you and your colleagues alive. It was in the sweltering heat of the afternoon that one of your study binges was interrupted. You shook your head knowing who dared tread into your tent.

6. Interrogations - Echo x F!Reader (18+ Please view responsibly)

The former arc trooper sighed. Another fruitless attempt at slipping free of his bonds. The chair he was bound to chilled any amount of exposed skin. The room kept dark to prevent him from gathering his bearings. He bided his time, waiting for the tell-tale clicking of his keeper. It was a whisper at first but grew louder as the automatic doors parted.

7. Personal Tastes - Hunter x F!Reader

Strands of meat sizzled and spat as she flipped the tangled mass. Her work distracting from the pair of eyes watching you from the doorway. Her culinary tasks from the staccato chops of a knife to peppers to the accented clink of a mortar and pestle offered a calming tune.

8. Just This Once, Everyone Lives - Rex x Reader

Your bottom lip remained captured between your teeth as the speeder came to a stop. The building looming over the city streets twinkled in the night. A beacon for personnel to gather while dressed to the nines. A hand curled around yours, smoothing over your knuckles.

9. Keep Away - UniversityAU Wrecker x Reader

You filed out with your fellow undergrads as your last class for the afternoon let out. the professor's voice offering mention of the end of the first sprint. You traversed amongst the student body's current before veering off to a corridor. The current loosening its grasp the closer you ventured toward the sanctuary of paper and ink.

10. Nothing Fight - Crosshair x F!Reader

It could be easy to say Clone Force 99 had a culture separate from the sea of clones. Clone medics would be reassigned in the blink of an eye and nat born medics often assigned whoever pissed off the higher ups. This led to your current long term assignment. Having a medic on board being the main reason one of your patients was released to his squad early pending observations.

NPT - @photogirl894 @rain-on-kamino @tecker @techs-stitches @littlemissmanga @annwayne @fakegingerrights @merkitty49 @moodymisty @starrylothcat

Wanna promote your work here too? Do it!

[nimsajlove]

Found you (II/?)

This is really hard to come up with and I don’t know why! You know, I love Dogma. But I think I don’t love writing him...

Ao3    Brothers-AU     Part I

   *~*

For a long time they just sat there, Dogma trembled every now and then and finally, Ahsoka slipped off her robe and wrapped it around his shoulders. The men checked on them a few times, but held themselves in the background. Dogma didn't seem to notice. „Kamino?“, he finally asked quietly, his voice small and lost. „Has nothing to say about any clone anymore.“, Ahsoka assured him and he nodded against her shoulder. „Krell?“, he asked after a few minutes of silence. Damn it, for Dogma this had only happened recently, while Ahsoka had long buried Krell deep in her memories. „Wasn't a Jedi anymore, you are okay.“, she muttered and Dogma nodded again, he seemed to collect his thoughts. „Tup?“, the question was even quieter than the last two, it almost ripped Ahsoka's heart out. „No, I'm sorry Dogma.“, she replied softly and felt Dogma just dully nod again. He looked numb. They wouldn't get anywhere like that... „How about we go and look for your bunk?“, suggested Ahsoka softly and Dogma winced violently, she hastily put her scarred hand on the back of his head and let his face rest on her shoulder again. „It's okay, I'll stay right here.“, she quickly rowed back and waited.

Her back became stiff from sitting for a long time, her neck ached and there was a hint of a headache that began high in her Montrals. The last few days had been... long. She wasn't really tired, just empty. Drained. Curling up on the floor in her study with the others sounded very tempting. „I'm sorry.“, Dogma suddenly mumbled quietly and as if by reflex Ahsoka ran her fingers over his short hair. „You don't have to feel sorry for anything. I'm sorry that we didn't get you earlier.“, she replied quietly and when the clone started to get up she released him from her embrace and moved away slightly, giving him room to straighten himself. His eyes were red and slightly puffy. But he seemed calmer. „You were looking for me?“, he asked softly and rubbed his arms under her robe, shivering. Ahsoka nodded hastily, she had a lot to make up for! „Of course. I'm sorry that I couldn't be a better sister to you before.“, she apologized again and Dogma winced, but this time he managed a small smile. „I would be fine, if we could become friends. Sir.“, he muttered and it conjured a real smile on Ahsoka's face. This time she would do it right! And she would not lose this friend, because the war was over. Carefully she offered him her hand. „Friends?“, she took up his suggestion and when he clasped her fingers his hands were cold, but his grip was gentle. „Friends.“

Her comlink blinked at her demanding and Dogma watched her throw the thing a restless look. „I'm holding you back, am I?“, he muttered and Ahsoka shot him a sharp look. „Say that never again. I'll take as much time for my men, as each one needs.“ Taking a deep breath, she paused. „But I would really like to take a look at the others. Would it be okay if I call Kix?“, she asked and although Dogma's shoulders tensed, he nodded curtly. She didn't want to stress him any more than necessary, but her brothers would certainly do their best to care for Dogma. She notified Kix. „Grab Thud and check on Dogma a little bit, okay? I'll go out and assign each men a medic.“, she murmured, Thud would certainly get along wonderfully with Dogma. The young clone was quiet and reserved. And he would take Dogma with him to Hug, who was perfectly gentle. „Good, now that we have the capacity. Give me a few seconds.“, Kix answered tinny and cut the connection.

Ahsoka slowly turned to Dogma, he watched her. His eyes shone tiredly, but he no longer flinched with every move she made. „I called Thud too, he will help you find a bunk. Is that okay, or should I call someone else?“ Dogma shrugged. „You are the general.“, he muttered and Ahsoka sighed, she shook her head. This would be some hard work. „And you have the right to say no.“, she countered and this time he actually smiled gratefully. „I know. Thanks sir.“ Footsteps sounded and Kix entered, carefully followed by Thud. Neither of them wore helmets. Ahsoka rose. „If you need anything, let me know.", she informed everyone and with a gentle smile she disappeared out into the corridor.

Dogma wasn't sure what to do with the situation. Tup, his batchmate, was gone. The world he had returned to seemed to be different from the one he had left. And Comm- General Tano was so much older! And calmer. And looking at Kix now was like looking into a different face than back then. The Medic had lost the hard pull on his mouth, instead fine lines had dug themselves around his eyes. They made him look tired and sad. It was all strange, but the hair was even stranger! Kix had ALWAYS found time to maintain his hairstyle. Why did he stop doing that? And he wasn't wearing blue, his armor was now adorned in bronze. „Dogma.“, the medic suddenly greeted and his soft voice tore Dogma from his thoughts. Had Kix always sounded so calm? He didn't know, had only spent time with him on the battlefield. „Sir...“, Dogma answered uncertainly and watched as Kix put down his backpack and came a little closer. „May I?“, he asked, Dogma couldn't remember the medics ever asking for his permission! He shrugged his shoulders a little and Kix sat down next to him on the uncomfortable cot, who had covered it with blankets?

Kix pulled his backpack towards him and opened it, rummaging around a little. When he looked up they both paused. No, these couldn't be tears. Medics didn't cry, Dogma was 100% sure of that. Right? And yet Kix's eyes shimmered suspiciously... „Kriff.“, Dogma muttered and hastily pressed his lips together again. Strictly speaking, Kix was ranked far above him. He had no right to speak so freely in front of him, that was wrong. But it had also been wrong to practically cling to his new general. Kix laughed dryly, ah. There was the trooper Dogma knew. „I'm so sorry.“, the medic sighed and rubbed his face with one hand before he called up the most important vitals of his patient with a small scanner. Dogma eyed him critically, he had never heard these words from Kix. Or even just thought that he would ever apologize for something...

Dogma did not find the capacity to do anything with this excuse. So he was silent and observed, before he had never taken the time for something like that. Just watch his brothers without a list of rules in the back of his mind. It was more interesting than had Dogma expected. Kix moved slowly but purposefully. Whenever he noted something on his datapad, he relaxed his jaw a little and every time he touched Dogma, he gritted his teeth. Dogma's gaze wandered aimlessly upwards, what was he actually doing here? Back then, just a few hours ago, so THEN... he had left the shuttle and accepted his death. And now he was sitting here!? „I think we got you back with no permanent damage... Maybe a little malnourished.“, Kix grumbled and Dogma nodded without really listening. „I'll see that he gets something nice.“, the other clone announced quietly, but Dogma winced violently nontheless. General Tano had brought two men here, but he had completely forgotten about the other clone next to Kix. „Dogma, this is Thud. Is it okay if he shows you your bunk?“, Kix asked carefully and Dogma took a few deep breaths, okay. Maybe a new face was good? He eyed Thud briefly, fine bronze stripes ran across his breastplate. The color of General Tano? Then he studied Thud's face and Dogma was surprised at how young he looked. Without the fine lines of worry and the shadows under his eyes, he looked years younger than Kix. His eyes seemed kind.

Dogma nodded and Kix seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, Thud smiled. When he reached out his hand to Dogma, he took it and let himself be carefully pulled to his feet. The world turned around him for a moment, then he caught himself and followed Thud out into the hallway. The cell block seemed unchanged, that was something at least. However, there was a lot more going on in the corridor than he expected. A few steps further he could see General Tano, she was standing close together with a soldier who Dogma did not know. But his ARC equipment and the blue handprint on a bronze background made it impossible, to oversee him. Ahsoka gave Dogma an encouraging look and the ARC next to her eyed him curiously, before he smiled encouragingly too. Dogma stared at her briefly and hesitated before nodding uncertainly in response. How else would you react when someone smiled at you like that? Except Tup, nobody had done that in a while. When Tano just kept watching him, Dogma turned and followed Thud.

On the way to the quarters, Dogma rarely let his gaze wander, most of the time he concentrated on Thud's back. That was easier, than to meet the eyes that followed him. So the hand came out of nowhere on his shoulder, he looked up frantically. Thud stopped and watched Appo take off his helmet with one hand and he grinned like a complete idiot.

Dogma just stood there, hands hanging uselessly, staring at Appo. He had never exchanged more than a few words with the other clone. What should he do now? „It's good to have you back.“, Appo smiled, squeezed his shoulder and then disappeared again with great strides. He turned the next corner. Appo was happy to see him again? Dogma blinked once, then twice. Had the others lost their minds? Nobody had ever been happy to see him again! Confused, he gave Thud a look, the younger clone smirked and then motioned for Dogma to follow him on. „Come on, Commander Rex has chosen a nice spot for you.“, he said in his soft voice and Dogma almost tripped over his own feet. The commander? Rex? Okay ... that was ... good. He remembered Rex as very headstrong but faithful. The rank of commander suited him, kind of.

He had just finished thinking when Thud stopped and opened the door to one of the quarters. Dogma looked up and met several smiling faces. He recognized one of them. „Welcome home.“, Burnes smiled and the corners of Dogma's mouth twitched up into a small smile, even as he lowered his eyes. Home huh? Even with Tup, it had been hard to feel at home anywhere. But when Thud grabbed his wrist and carefully pulled him into the room, he thought he could at least give this a chance.

[mandos-mind-trick]

Instinct - Part 3

Summary: Omegas were rare. Some even thought them extinct. So when Boba contacts Din saying he has a gift Din can’t refuse, the last thing he expects to find is an omega in need of an alpha. Din has to make the hard decision, but what else was he really doing anyways? But naturally, there’s more to this omega than meets the eye.

Pairing: Din Djarin x female!reader

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, torture, and trafficking; ABO dynamics, nightmares, rehashing some traumatic past events, some New Mandalorian bashing as well, probably fucking up the timeline but idc. 

A/N: Here’s the next part. May post part 4 today as well, we’ll see. 

< Previous | Next > | MASTERLIST | OC Version

He’s dreaming again. A dream that constantly plagued him of late. He’s on the light cruiser, he can see them just ahead. He’s running but he can’t move fast enough. He can hear the cries, loud in his ears. He’s reaching, reaching but he’s not fast enough. He can’t make it on time. He’s too late. The lifeless body falls, just out of reach of him. That little face, those big eyes. 

No, it’s not him this time. The lifeless eyes staring up at him are smaller, lighter. It’s not the kid in his arms. It’s you. 

Din is woken from his nightmare as something nudges him. He reaches out, wrapping his hand around the foot passing over him, yanking it forward to make the person lose their balance. They hit the floor with a thud, the vibroblade in his hand quick to press against their neck as he hovers over them. 

“Wait!” 

He pauses at the sound of your voice. 

“It’s me. It’s Y/N.” 

He stares down at your terrified face for a moment, wakefulness slamming into him and he realizes what he’s done. He moves his hand, drawing back from you. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You sit up, pulling your legs to your stomach to make yourself as small as possible. “I was just trying to go to Fennec.” 

“Why?” He asks, wincing at the harsh tone. 

“I need comfort.” There’s a subtle whine to your voice, your omega coming through. You’re shaking, he can see it in the moonlight. “I had a nightmare.” 

“Why go to her?” The true meaning of his question is obvious, and you don't miss it, even in your fearful state. 

“I trust her.” Your words bite at him a bit. “Why would I ask you when...when you don’t even want me?” He can hear the tears in your voice. He knows you’re referring to earlier that day. You’re quiet for a moment, breaths shaky. “Is it me?” 

The question is so quiet he almost doesn’t hear it. “What?” 

“Is it me? Is there something wrong with me? Do you-do you want to reject me?” 

The question nearly chokes him. He feels like he’s been stabbed in the chest, the knife turning and turning in his skin. He’d heard stories of alphas rejecting their omegas. It was painful, horribly painful, and both alpha and omega carried that pain until they died. They usually didn’t live long afterwards. Without their other half, knowing what they could have had...it was often too much to bear. 

“No.” The word is breathy, his chest constricting as he looks at your teary face. “No. I’m not-” He shifts onto his knees, taking a breath. You flinch, eyes darting to the vibroblade still in his hand. He drops it to the side, letting it hit the blanket with a quiet thud. “I’m not going to reject you. It’s not...It’s nothing you’ve done.” He sighs, the breath crackling through his helmet. “I’m...It’s me. I’m...complicated. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.” 

“You think I do? I never got to learn this part. My home...Mandalore, it was all taken from me. By the civil wars, and then the Empire.” He tilts his head at you, his mind trying to process what you’re saying. “They never told you why omegas were so rare before? Why there were so few of us left?” 

“No.” 

You huff quietly, shaking for another reason now. He can scent the anger in the air, your brow furrowed. “Those progressives who pushed their new ways, the ones who didn’t wear the armor, the ones who claimed to lead Mandalore during the Clone Wars and after. They stopped awakening their alphas. They thought it archaic and barbaric, animalistic even, being controlled by some inner animal, forced to mate with someone who didn’t know better, someone whose entire life was built around serving someone else.” You sniffle, wiping the tears from your face. “They knew they couldn’t leave the omegas. If we’re not suppressed, we die without proper care. So they massacred them. Entire clans of omegas were wiped out simply because they didn’t want to have to deal with us.” 

It’s quiet for a moment, Din watching your face. Your head is lowered, eyes trained on a spot on the floor. 

“It’s what started the wars. Deep down, hidden on the surface. They wouldn’t admit to it, so they blamed it on something else. My father escaped one of the massacres. He watched his entire clan be slaughtered before help arrived. That’s when he met my mother.” A sad smile tugs at your lips. “She took him to the omega temple. One of the few places the progressives couldn’t reach. And they never would. The Empire would take care of that for them.” 

“I’m sorry.” He says, watching your face as it finally lifts. There’s a hardness in her eyes, a wall having risen. He can see it. A wall built out of necessity. “Your father was the omega?” 

You let out a quiet sound. “Yeah. There’s female Mandalorians, aren’t there?” 

You had a point. 

It’s quiet between you for a few moments, the air between you still churning with something unspoken. 

“I could be the last omega left.” You say, finally breaking the silence. 

Your words twist the knife deeper into his chest. You were right. The others that had escaped had disappeared. There was no way of knowing if there were any others still alive. He liked to think there were. That one of the other clans had one safely hidden away. That maybe one had been born since that day. Plenty of Mandalorian children had been born since. But two alphas couldn’t make an omega. Even the chances of an omega being born between an alpha and omega was small. 

But you were right. He was holding himself back selfishly. He had been so afraid of the truth, he hadn’t stopped to think of how you were feeling. What you would want. He couldn’t deny you. Soon your heat would start and he wouldn’t be able to control himself. He would take you whether either of you wanted it or not. He knows it’s a hard transition, leaving the nurturers behind. Even harder in your case, your parents death and then now facing the prospect of leaving the two that had saved your life and then had taken on that role for you even if they couldn’t understand it on a deeper level. 

And now he was here. An alpha being put in your path. A chance for you to live your life as you were meant to, and he was keeping you from that out of his own fear. It wasn’t fair to either of you. 

Your scent is strong. Fear, sadness, and anger swirling together in a thick fog. It’s a bitter scent, burning his nose and making his stomach churn. It was a warning. Don’t come closer. A warning to keep alphas away from volatile omegas. He pushes his discomfort aside, pushing past the barrier of warning as he crawls closer to you. He pauses right in front of you, reaching out to cup your face. 

He didn’t know when he took his gloves off. Your skin is wet from your tears, his thumbs brushing the dampness from your cheeks. Your eyes flutter closed, a shaky breath leaving you as his warm skin meets yours. His own alpha begins to settle, relaxing as he holds your face. Neither of you move, content to just sit there and breathe for a moment. 

Underneath the fear and the anger is the sweetness of your natural scent. What he had smelled in the throne room, the first time he saw you. He breathes it in again, getting a whiff of your pure scent, not muddled by anything else. There’s a soft floral undertone to it, mixed in with a gentle tang of citrus. It reminds him of a fruit he’d tried a long time ago. It’s intoxicating, his alpha rumbling in pleasure. 

He slides one of his hands to the back of your neck, cradling your head. It was something only to be done in times of crisis, he had been taught. When an omega was distressing, volatile, or unpredictable, a scruff from an alpha, or a nurturer, could calm the omega almost instantly. Of course, one had to get close enough to do so. 

It was a powerful move, one that could easily be abused in the wrong hands. It was the easiest way to get an omega to submit. An out of control alpha could force themselves on an omega with a simple move. It had happened before. His clan considered those who did so a disgrace. Alpha or not, scruffing an omega to control them was sick. 

He knows you won’t calm completely. There was too much between you, too many unknowns, too much unsaid. Too many emotions. You would feed off him, even if you weren’t bonded. So instead, he does it to relax you. To calm that raging fire inside you. He didn’t want your omega to get defensive. He wouldn’t fight back, but you would hurt herself if you tried. 

You let out a quiet sound as his hand closes around the back of your neck, your head falling back until it’s entirely held up by his hand. Your body relaxes, the tension leaving your shoulders. Your lips part as you let out a long breath, eyes fluttering. Relief, it almost feels like. He didn’t have to hold it for long, he didn’t want to. Just enough to get you to relax. 

Your hand shoots out before he can move, gripping his bicep. “Don’t let go.” You breathe, inhaling shaky. 

This was new to him. He had always heard omegas hated being scruffed. It left them feeling vulnerable, uneasy. An alpha had to be prepared to support an omega after. But an omega asking to have it done, for him to keep his hand there. This was new to him. But if it was what you needed, he couldn’t deny you. 

He holds your neck just a hair tighter, using his other hand to move you against his chest. He lays back in his pile of pillows and blankets, cradling you to his chest. He knows his beskar has to be uncomfortable for you, digging into your skin, but you offer no protest, completely limp and relaxed against him. He keeps you there, holding you as you slowly drift off to sleep again. 

He wakes as something nudges his side rather harshly. He grabs the ankle on the foot that’s kicking him, the other foot quickly jumping back to avoid getting taken out by him. 

“Knock me over again and I’ll give you a dent in that helmet to match Boba’s.” 

He shifts his head to look up at you. He’s holding your ankle, your bare foot having been what was hitting him. 

“Get up.” You say, moving your foot back as he releases it. 

You bend down, grabbing his hands, pulling him up into a seated position with surprising strength. You’re still pulling on him, trying to get him standing. 

“Okay, okay.” He says, pushing himself up to stand. “I’m up.” 

You brush past him, grabbing the blankets and pillows off the floor. He scans the room, finding it in complete disarray. He watches you as you start to meticulously place the blankets and pillows he’d been using on the bed. 

“It’s not right. None of it is right.” You say, fluffing the pillows. 

Your preheat must have been starting. He must have triggered it last night. You’re attempting to nest, attempting to rearrange the room to make it more comfortable. You push him towards the bed, attempting to shove him down onto it but he’s not budging. You take a couple steps back before ramming him with your shoulder, or at least try to. He stops you before you can hit him and hurt yourself, your eyes narrowing as they look up at him. 

“Stop.” He says, letting you go. “You’re going to hurt yourself. Just tell me what you need.” 

“You, bed.” You jab a finger into his breastplate before pointing it at the bed. He sits on the edge of the bed, watching you. “Stay.” 

You watch him for a moment, making sure he’s not going anywhere before turning, starting to rearrange your things. He watches you rearrange what you can, almost breaking his promise to stay when a droid opens the door to deliver food. You look ready to attack for a moment before you take the plates. You sit with her back to him so he can eat, not turning around until he tells you. 

You clean, wiping the sand and dust from every surface. You rearrange the bits of his things that he had brought into the room, putting them where you wants. He tries to keep track, but you’re moving so much he knows he’ll have to dig to find some of them later. 

You finish rearranging the rest of the room before crawling onto the bed. You move the blankets and pillows a few times, nudging him with your hip to get him to stand as you smooths out the blanket he had been sitting on. You crawl back towards the head of the bed before flopping down on your stomach, laying still. 

He watches you, watching the slow rise and fall of your back for a few minutes before he realizes you’re asleep. He pulls one of the blankets over you, not that you would really need it in the heat, but it made him feel better. He watches you for another minute before he’s leaving, heading down to the throne room. 

“You’re up late.” Boba says, greeting him. 

“She’s in preheat.” He says. “She’s building her nest.” 

“How long?” 

“Could be a couple days. Could be a week. It’s hard to say. The suppressants will have thrown off her cycle. She’s...aggressive.” 

“Can’t blame her.” Boba says. “Kid’s been through it.”

“We won’t be able to leave the room when she goes into heat. I’ll stock the room with food and water before it starts.” 

“I’ll have a droid stationed outside the door if you need anything.” 

“That’s a good idea. I will be...equally as aggressive over her. Droids probably won’t cause any sort of reaction.” 

“And after?” Boba looks at him. 

What was he going to do after her heat had passed? That was the question. He had spent time lying awake thinking of the answer.  

“I don’t know.”

Taglist: 

@donttamethebeasts​, @unicorntrooper​

[dearcytheris]

untitled ↠ little lovelies

⤷ part of the {upcoming untitled clip x reader} ‘verse

summary: finally away from the confines of kamino’s medbay, you and commander clip escape to the rainy balcony of the city for a moment to yourselves.

wordcount: 0.7k

warnings: none!

notes: commander clip is my clone oc! doc is a medic stationed on kamino. non-specific reader-insert, gender-neutral

navigation | m.list

MAKER, YOU HADN’T FELT this freedom in a long time; too long, in fact. Running through the stark-white corridors of the facility, Clip’s hand tightly woven around yours, pulling you along with him towards the doors.

You love it.

You love it.

You love it.

There’s beads of water splattering across your face, their velocity enough to sting your skin as the wind whips the rain under the roof that covers the platform. The noise is deafening, with the storm raging in the sky and heavy droplets splashing against the aggressive waves below.

You don’t know how long you spend standing there with your eyes closed, just feeling.

When you open them, peeking over at Clip to your right, his eyes are shut too, his head leaned back as he feels, just as you were.

Basking in this all-too-fleeting moment of freedom.

You gently tug on his hand—still clasped within your own—and pull him farther out, the rain heavier and hitting you harder the closer you get to the edge.

Clip glances out at the water one more time before he drags you in closer, your chest flush with his, not an inch of space left between you.

His lips quirk up in a small smile—you notice that happening more and more—before he leans in, resting his forehead against yours.

He whispers something so softly you can’t quite make it out amongst the white noise of the rain pounding against the waves, but it almost sounds like your name.

Your name.

Not doc.

It’s… strangely sweet, from the cold-hearted commander.

You blink at him, opening your mouth to speak; to ask if he really did say your name, but he places a finger over your lips, shaking his head with a grin that slowly spreads across his cheeks.

Clip moves his hand to wrap both arms around your waist, lifting you enough so you’re settled against his chest as he leans back, your knees squeezing the sides of his hips. Your arms reach to encircle around his neck, one hand resting on the back of his head as your fingers tighten in his curls.

He just looks up at you, his hands splayed across your back, with his deep brown eyes drenched in hesitancy as he glances down at your lips before meeting your gaze again.

You roll your eyes before leaning down, your hands cupping his cheeks as your lips crash against his in a blazing kiss.

It’s a long time coming.

You feel his lips curl into a smile beneath yours, his cheeks creasing under your hands. Clip slowly turns, his hands gripping at the fabric of your shirt tightly, as though you’ll disappear if he lets go.

You can’t blame him. You don’t want to let him go either.

Clip’s turns have become quicker and suddenly you’re spinning. It’s so cliche and cheesy, you feel like you’re in a holofilm, but this is so, so much better, so much more rewarding. Because you have him.

Finally. You have him; really and truly, if even just for this brief moment on the deck, quickly getting soaked by the rain. He is yours, and you are his.

The rain is coming heavier now; both your clothes are drenched, but you couldn’t care less.

Clip is slow as he pulls away, his dark eyes glossed and shiny. He sets you down gently, your feet hitting the platform floor with a soft thud.

You don’t move.

Neither does he.

You both know what comes next, and you hope—foolishly so—that if you stay here, with him in the rain, wrapped around each other so tightly it’s almost painful, that the inevitable won’t come. That he’ll stay here, with you, in this prison, on this planet, so distant from where he needs to be.

An alarm sounds off from inside the facility, notifying the staff that medical assistance is required for the incoming ship.

You spare a glance at Clip. He's already looking at you, a moment of melancholy on his face before he steels his expression with a quirk of his lips. “Better get back there, Doc,” he says, cavalier and causal.

It doesn't fool you.

He knows.

Back to work.