#clone wars fives reader insert

[vizslasaber]

FRIENDLY FIRE ──── i.

summary: after landing on the umbaran surface, you butt heads with your fellow general—but get along swimmingly with your temporary clone captain.

pairing: captain rex x female jedi!reader

word count: 3.9k

warnings: combat/action, mentions of injury + death, krell being a bitch, reader with a name instead of y/n because i hate it

a/n: it’s back!!! previously i posted this series on my main, @brrmian, but i changed that blog’s username and have mostly shifted over to fanart and general SW content. i’ve decided to dedicate this new side blog’s content entirely to fic writing under my old username, posting reader insert on here and everything else on ao3! this fic will be updated sparsely but definitely more often than it was on my main. i’ve changed a few things regarding the plot of this series specifically, and i like it a lot more now!!

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You hadn’t wanted to leave the Temple behind—you still don’t, even lightyears away from the Core.

When the Jedi Council had first made you aware of the plan to have you and a Master you’d never met capture an Umbaran airbase with troops that were not your own, you had put up something of a fight. What right, you demanded, did the Chancellor have the right to simply pull a Jedi from their sacred duty for a trivial air-to-ground assault?

The Council had either not wanted to answer this question or had not known how to, so now you stand on a transport gunship with two clone troopers and an intimidatingly tall Besalisk Jedi Master by the name of Pong Krell. Both of you are holding onto the grab handles hanging from the ceiling; you’re gripping the handle so tightly your knuckles are slightly pale, but Krell looks perfectly steady.

Of course he is, you think bitterly. He has four arms.

The atmosphere of Umbara is breathable but strangely thick—fog seeps through the blast door openings, and the lights inside the gunship’s passenger bay seem to have dimmed. Your lightsabers bump against your hips and you wince slightly as sounds of frantic gunfire reach your ears.

This will be your first campaign.

You have seen death before, on missions as a Padawan before the war—but never on this scale, if the reports of your already-knighted friends from the Temple are anything to go by. You only hope that you will be assigned your own battalion soon, so you don’t have to go running around replacing wayward Generals.

It’s hard, standing at the side of an imposing Master, not to feel like a Padawan. The skin behind your right ear burns with the memory of the braid that had been there just last week, waiting to be sheared off as you prepared for your ascension to Knighthood.

While your battalion assignment is pending, Master Windu told you as you stood in the center of the Council Chamber, the Senate has requested that we send two Jedi Knights to replace Skywalker on Umbara.

Master Krell is already on-world, assisting Master Kenobi, but he will need another Jedi’s help if he and the 501st are to take the capital in Skywalker’s stead, Master Plo explained, his hologram flickering as he called in from some faraway world.

All due respect, Masters, you remember asking as you willed yourself not to tremble, but why me? I’ve never been anywhere near the front. I wouldn’t be much help.

Believe in your potential, we do, Master Yoda said. An opportunity for you to do good, the Force has given you.

And that, it was decided, was that.

Even now, after meditating on your anxiety for practically the entire journey through hyperspace, your nerves feel impossibly frayed. The transport jostles, but you only sway slightly, arm already holding onto an overhead handle for balance. There’s a shiny new military-issue commlink attached to your right vambrace. A morbid thought, of calling in a medevac for injured soldiers with this very communicator, crosses your mind—but you let it dissipate.

The gunship suddenly makes a sharp dive, and your stomach swoops—you must be about to land. You spare a glance at General Krell, who has now let go of the grab handles and has crossed all four of his arms over his chest. For a moment, you’re almost tempted to ask how he manages to stay so balanced while the ship is moving, but then the blast doors slide open and the gunship lands in shadowy darkness.

The first person you see is Anakin Skywalker. He’s around your age, maybe a bit younger—despite having been knighted several years earlier, as one of the first Padawan victims of the Jedi Military Integration Act. Your Master, ever traditional even when the Order began to stray from its centuries-old teachings, did her best to keep you apprenticed for as long as possible, but even that eventually proved futile.

In the end, you and Anakin are practically of the same age, and yet he has infinite more experience than you. Uncertainty wheedles its way into your chest and slips a pin into your lungs; you’re holding your breath as you follow Krell off the gunship.

Being far shorter than the Besalisk, you have to jump down. When you hit the ground, you shiver at the misty atmosphere, watching as bioluminescent specks of dust fly up underneath your boots.

As the two of you approach, you hear the troopers of the 501st legion mutter amongst themselves, but you push it aside and focus on the pleasantries.

“General Krell. General Neridian,” Anakin says, smiling graciously. “My thanks for the air support.”

“Indeed, General Skywalker,” Krell replies, bowing politely. “The locals have proven to be more resourceful than we anticipated.”

“We managed to get here in one piece, though,” you add jokingly, and Anakin smirks, his eyes twinkling. You gesture to the troopers unloading the gunship behind you. “And we brought ration resupplies.”

Anakin nods appreciatively, then raises one eyebrow after a moment, looking slightly confused. “But—that’s not the reason for your visit.”

“No,” Krell admits. “The Council has ordered you back to Coruscant, effective immediately.”

“What?” Skywalker demands. “Wh-why?”

“The Chancellor...” you pause, searching for a word, before you settle on, “insisted that you return. The Council had no say on the matter.”

“That is all they would tell us,” Krell adds, though he doesn’t sound displeased.

“Well, I—I can’t just leave my men!” Anakin protests, and for the first time you notice the trooper standing at attention beside him.

He’s identical to all the clones you’ve met, of course, except for one detail—his hair is blond. You wonder vaguely if it would be polite to ask him whether or not it’s natural as you survey his armor. The pauldron on his left shoulder indicates a position of command, but he carries a sense of individuality in the Force that, despite your inexperience with working with them, you’ve come to realize every clone has. His helmet is painted with a distinctly Mandalorian sigil, but it’s not one you recognize.

His gaze is pointed directly ahead; he makes no eye contact with you. Probably just as annoyed at the change of plans as Anakin is, you realize.

Krell moves to speak, jolting you from your thoughts. You recognize Anakin’s agitation, however, so you calmly move to intercept.

“The Council would not just leave your troopers to fend for themselves—not that they aren’t perfectly capable of doing so, of course,” you add, which merits the barest hint of a smile from the trooper standing beside Anakin. “It’s just… well, the Senate needs a Jedi to be at the head of every campaign, and I guess they figured subtracting one of you would mean—”

“—adding two other Jedi,” Anakin says with a snort of derision. “Yeah… sounds like the Senate. But you guys’ll probably get it done faster anyway.”

“Don’t worry about a thing, sir,” interjects the trooper, and Anakin looks to him. “We’ll have this city under control by the time you’re back.”

“Generals, this is Captain Rex, my first in command,” Anakin says fondly, and you see something like pride show itself in Rex’s eyes. “You won’t find a finer or more loyal trooper anywhere.”

“I don’t doubt it,” you affirm earnestly.

“Yes, that is good to hear,” Krell agrees, then places a large hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “I wish you well, Skywalker.”

Anakin simply nods at him, then stops beside you and says, “I hear you passed the Trials.”

You gesture to your hair, now void of a Padawan braid. “Apparently so,” you reply. “Funny, I didn’t think you were one to get swept into the rumour mill.”

A grin, boyish and bright, springs to Anakin’s face. “Nah, I’m always one for good gossip.” His expression turns softer, then, and he puts a hand on your shoulder. “Seriously, though… congratulations.”

“Thank you,” you say, but he’s already approaching the gunship and taking hold of one of the grab handles. The ship is off within seconds, and you can’t help but feel apprehensive as it flies away, up into the fog.

Taking a moment to gather yourself, you turn to Rex and offer a polite nod. He returns it, then says, “It is an honour to be serving with you, Generals.”

“The honour is all mine,” you return graciously, and Rex looks like he’s about to say something else, but stops when Krell begins to speak.

“I find it very interesting, Captain, that you are able to recognize the value of honour,” he begins, then—almost as an afterthought—adds, “for a clone.”

Silence.

Your eyebrows shoot up, and as Rex stares at Krell in shock, you feel your armored chest tighten—with frustration or shock, you don’t yet know.

“Stand at attention when I address you,” Krell snaps, turning to face the other troopers, and as Rex obliges, you narrow your eyes and step forward.

“Master Krell,” you start, your jaw tightening, “I do believe it would be far more... prudent to show respect to the soldiers who have so graciously agreed to undertake this mission with us.” You tilt your head questioningly, sending your ponytail swaying. “After all—we are the ones who just arrived.”

A ripple of white-hot anger moves through the Force with lightning speed, but it’s gone before you can take time to process it. Now, all you can feel is something akin to gratitude, trickling like a cool waterfall from where Rex stands, back straight and eyes ahead.

“They agreed to nothing,” Krell counters, and you blink as his wide upper lip curls back to reveal a row of dangerously sharp teeth. “Do not forget, young one, that we are the Generals they serve under at present.”

“I...” you pause, momentarily at a loss for words, then clasp your hands behind your back and force your jaw to unclench. “I haven’t forgotten that. But I also haven’t forgotten that the only way to succeed in this endeavour is to work together.”

“And with what experience do you so kindly bestow this advice upon us, Knight Neridian?” Krell asks, and the question is like a bucket of ice water down the back of your robes.

You swallow, and search for the words to say, but none come. Cheeks burning with shame, you stare determinedly at the ground.

The tension in Krell’s Force signature disappears, as sudden as the crack of a whip, and he draws in a deep breath. You look up as the pouch-like piece of flesh under Krell’s chin grows in size and he begins to pace.

“Nevertheless,” Krell brushes off, acting as though none of your words register with him, “there’s a reason my command is so effective, and it’s because I do things by the book.” He walks past a soldier in an ARC Trooper uniform who has the number five tattooed on his right temple. The trooper doesn’t move as Krell passes him, but you can see a vein on his forehead bulge.

“And that includes protocol,” Krell puts in. He turns to you. “Have all platoons ready to move out immediately.”

You bristle. “I—I thought we were to make decisions together,” you protest, raising your chin defiantly.

Technically, there’s nothing to defy, seeing as you hold equal rank with Krell—but the Council specified in their briefing that this was supposed to be a learning experience, an introduction to combat before receiving your own battalion. And something about Master Krell demands respect, or at the very least obedience, despite the fact that you’re starting to want to do everything you can not to give it to him.

Krell simply huffs and turns around, his yellow eyes flashing, and walks away, leaving you surrounded by a platoon troopers.

You frown after him. “Well, now I know why Master Venn wished me good luck,” you mutter, mostly to yourself. Some of the troopers snicker, but you hardly notice.

Your former master, Esya Venn, had pulled you aside just before leaving. The look on her face had been nothing short of concerned, but you’d shrugged it off in the moment, even when she’d told you to be careful, Padawan. She never told anyone to be careful—it was simply a reflex to think twice about your actions around Esya.

But now you understand.

Scrubbing a hand over your tired face, you take a deep breath and turn to Captain Rex. “Shall we set off?” you ask, and he nods, promptly putting on his helmet.

“Move out, soldiers!” he shouts, starting down the path after Krell. “Come on, let’s go!”

You give Rex a grateful smile, and though you can’t see his face, you know he’s returning it. With one last glance at the battalion, you hurry to the front and fall into step next to General Krell.

It’s silent for some time. Krell doesn’t deter, no matter how dark it gets, and after a while you begin to grow uncomfortable next to him. The anger you’d felt in the Force earlier is dormant, but certainly there, and it makes chills erupt down your spine.

"I’m going to check on the Captain,” you say, and Krell only nods when you turn around and quickly find Rex, who’s walking about two meters behind where you previously were.

The Captain salutes briefly. “General.”

“Captain,” you reply politely, before glancing back at Krell. “I can’t help but notice that there’s—” you pause for a moment. Do these troopers know enough about the Force to have conversations with you about it?

Knowing Anakin, you realize, they probably do, so you clear your throat and continue. “I get a strange feeling from Master Krell,” you say quietly.

Rex’s shoulders relax just slightly. “How so, sir?”

You bite your lip and shake your head. “I don’t know, exactly,” you reply, then gesture vaguely in front of you, where Krell is half-visible in the murky fog. “The Force around him is unclear. It’s... hard to explain.”

“Hard to explain, as in it’s a Jedi thing?” Rex guesses, and you grin widely.

“Yes,” you say. “It’s a Jedi thing.” Reaching up, you curl a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I may not be a Jedi, sir,” Rex says after a moment, “but I think I know what you mean by strange feeling.”

“Quicken that pace, battalion!” Krell suddenly shouts over his shoulder, and you jump. “This isn’t some training course on Kamino.”

You sigh and raise your voice, turning to the troopers. “What General Krell means,” you call, pointedly shooting a glare at the Besalik’s back, “is that we must continue to make good time. Keep up the good work.”

Krell gives no answer, but you feel a ripple of frustration coming from his direction. There’s another thread in the Force, one of gratitude, but you can’t tell where exactly it’s coming from. You latch onto it nonetheless and file the feeling away for later, letting yourself make an easy pace just ahead of Rex.

“He certainly has a way with words,” you hear one of the clones say, and when you glance behind you out of the corner of your eye, you can see that the source is someone with similar armor to Rex’s. Another ARC, or someone of similar rank.

There’s a sigh. You think it’s from Rex. The troopers obviously don’t know you’re listening, so you direct your gaze ahead, keeping your pace steady.

“He’s just trying to keep us on schedule,” Rex explains, voice hushed and sounding a bit sheepish.

"By raising everyone’s ire?” the other trooper grumbles.

“Either way, he’s in charge,” Rex protests. “And we’ve got a job to do.”

“She’s in charge, too,” hisses the trooper, and you purse your lips, knowing he’s pointing to you.

Another sigh, again from Rex. “Just—treat them both with respect, and we’ll all get along fine.”

You’re about to turn around when your neck stiffens. It’s an instinctual reaction, like the Force tapping you on the shoulder—one that you’ve learned to interpret as a warning. Less than a second later, a loud screech echoes above your head.

“Ready your weapons!” Rex shouts, at the same moment you draw one lightsaber.

Faster than your eyes can process, a winged creature swoops down and grabs a trooper—but you don’t need your eyes. The cyan beam of your lightsaber casts a glow on the shadowy ground, and you jump upwards, landing on a large plant that allows you to swing from a vine and graze the blade across the wing of one of the creatures. It falls to the ground with another screech before flying away, relatively unharmed.

One to go.

You’re about to grab hold of a second vine and swing towards the other creature, but a flash of blurred blue and green makes you pull back—Krell beats you to it, landing on top of the creature and wrestling it to the ground.

“Wait—stop!” you shout as he draws his lightsabers, but it’s too late. He’s already skewered the creature mercilessly, and it lies dead on the ground, life blinking out of the Force in an instant.

You jump off of the large plant, landing on both feet, and hook your now deactivated lightsaber onto your belt. “Why did you kill it?” you demand, pushing past several onlooking clones.

“It is nothing more than a violent inhabitant of this area,” Krell dismisses, and you feel your jaw drop.

“But…” you start, at a loss for words. “The Code decrees—”

“The Code,” Krell says coldly as he turns to stare at you, “allows for self defense.”

You draw yourself up to your full height, switching off your lightsaber with a snap-hiss before hooking it back onto your belt. “That’s not what—”

Krell’s lightsabers deactivate loudly, cutting you off, and he returns them to either side of his belt before turning away and continuing on the path. “Anyone else want to stop and play with the animals?”

No one answers, but you feel your fists clench as if of their own accord.

This is going to be a long night.

Umbara’s plant life is fascinating. Observing the bioluminescent life forms is the only thing that serves a proper distraction from both the grumbling clone troopers and the pit of apprehension in your stomach. You’d been walking for twelve hours, give or take, and every time you’d tried to suggest a break to Krell, he’d snapped at you.

This can’t be allowed, you think bitterly, skipping over a glowing pink tree root, boots skidding on the dark purple ground.

You chew on your bottom lip and glance at the clones behind you. They are understandably worn out, and even with the extensive survival training Master Esya drilled into you as a Padawan, you were starting to get tired, too.

“Sir,” says a voice from behind you, and you jump, expecting in your exhaustion to see Krell—but it’s just Rex.

“We’ve been keeping this pace for almost half a rotation,” Rex points out, sounding vaguely nervous. “The men are... starting to tire. General Krell is...” he tilts his head, expressionless visor unreadable. “You know.”

You muster a smile, hoping you look at least a little like Master Enya, and nod.

“I know, Captain,” you say, and he shifts slightly, as though his blue-painted pauldron is uncomfortable. You can’t blame him. Running a hand over your ponytail, you blow out a breath and frown at the puff of air that appears in front of you. “Let me talk to him. Tell the men to start searching for a good spot to camp for a few hours.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Rex giving an affirmative thumbs up to the troopers behind him, but by then you’re already approaching Krell, clasping your hands tightly behind your back.

“Master Krell,” you start, and Krell turns his head just a bit. “I’ve told the men to scout for a place to rest. I reviewed the mission plan on the way here, and we can spare three hours without being delayed, possibly more—”

“The men don’t need rest,” Krell interrupts, and you feel your cheeks flush with anger. “They need resolve to complete the task at hand.”

“Apologies, Master,” you say, squaring your shoulders as frustration heats your neck and face. You breathe deeply. There is no emotion, only peace. “But I don’t think the men will be on their best game when we reach the capital if they don’t take some time to gather themselves.”

“That they need to ‘gather themselves’ is a sign of weakness,” Krell cuts in, stopping and turning to face you with a sneer. “That is not what these clones were bred for.”

Not far away, many of the soldiers bristle at Krell’s choice of words, but you keep your focus on the yellow eyes staring you down for the second time that night.

“They weren’t bred to be mindless droids, either,” you argue, crossing your arms over your chest and making sure to keep your voice even. “And in case you’ve forgotten, even battle droids need to recharge. If we march on the Capital without any sort of break first, I promise you, this mission will not go as planned. Exhausted and underfed soldiers are a guaranteed disadvantage.”

Krell studies you, a sneer forming on his lips. “I see you take after your Master’s incessant need to get the last word on anyone she disagrees with.”

You scowl. “I beg your pardon, but Master Venn is—”

He ignores you, cutting past where you stand and walking away. “Do what you wish, Neridian,” he dismisses, then walks away to stand by a glowing tree.

A sigh escapes your lips, and you close your eyes. It’s becoming harder and harder not to snap at him—but you know what the Order’s teachings require of you. Emotion, yet peace.

You grimace as Krell retreats to the back of the line, then turn back to the troopers nearby and give Rex a nod. The captain returns it in what you hope is a grateful manner, then calls for the men to make camp at the top of the ridge your group has been climbing.

By the time you gather all the troopers together, the battalion has put together a hasty campsite, with half the troopers having fallen into a fitful sleep and the other half keeping watch while eating as many rations as the limit allows. You frown and approach the trooper you heard Rex talking to earlier, his Force signature familiar from when you were eavesdropping. His helmet is now sitting in his lap, being meticulously cleaned with what little supplies the battalion has on hand.

You study the soldier. He has a tattoo on his right temple, and upon studying it, you realize it’s the same ARC trooper who’d been glaring at Krell when you stepped off the gunship. You wonder what significance the number five has to him.

Taking another step forward, you clear your throat. “Trooper,” you begin, and the soldier looks up curiously before abruptly shooting to his feet and snapping off a salute. You wave a nonchalant hand. “No need for that. I only wanted to ask a favor—can you gather troopers to stand watch? Six at a time, tops, and make sure they take turns so everyone can rest. That includes you.”

“You got it, sir,” says the trooper, and you smile.

“Sorry, I don’t believe I caught your name...” you say, then, and the trooper blinks.

“Oh, uh—it’s Fives, sir.”

“I see,” you reply, gaze flickering to his tattoo and back again. “Thank you, Fives.”

You retreat to your own tent soon after, shrugging off your vambraces and arranging them neatly next to your bedroll. This wouldn’t be the shortest sleep cycle you’d had, what with the nature of your apprenticeship at the temple—but not the longest, either.

From what you can hear inside your tent, the camp is silent. Slowly, you poke your head through the canvas flaps to find exactly six men—as you’d requested—sitting in the center of camp. Farther away, at the outskirts of the circle of tents, sits Master Krell’s hulking form. In spite of yourself, you frown.

“General?” asks a sudden voice above you; letting out an involuntary yelp, you scramble backwards before stopping at the sight of Rex standing near the entrance to your tent.

Embarrassed, you stand up, brushing off your cream-coloured robes. “Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I could swear I’m not usually so jumpy, I don’t know what—” you look up and stop short.

Rex has removed his helmet.

His blond hair isn’t a surprise this time around, but close up, you’re struck by how tired he looks. There are smile lines at the corners of his eyes, but his face is cast in exhausted shadows.

You wonder if a full night’s sleep is something he’s ever had, or if the training regiments on Kamino prepared him and his brothers for this kind of halfhearted sleep cycle. Curiously, you study him.

Rex’s eyes are golden-brown in the dying light of this shadowy planet. They’re the same shade as all the troopers in the immediate vicinity. And yet, as you stare into them, something in you stirs as your Force signature brushes against his—something you know you’re not supposed to feel.

“Er, General,” Rex repeats, jolting you from your faraway thoughts. “I just wanted to let you know—the scouts are detecting a clear journey from here on out. We have approximately four hours to kick back, as predicted.”

Hurriedly, you turn away and clear your throat awkwardly. “Very good, Captain,” you mumble. “Thank you. You’re—erm, free to go and rest.”

For a moment, Rex looks surprised, but he composes himself seconds later. “Thank you, General,” he says. “But I—”

“Not up for debate,” you interrupt, holding your hand up. Bemused, Rex blinks, so you shoot him a reassuring smile. “You said it yourself: the soldiers need rest. You’re a soldier, yes?”

Rex opens his mouth, probably to say something about him being a Captain, but you lower your hand to rest it on his shoulder. The kind gesture seems to quell him, so you continue. “Don’t exclude yourself in that. Rest well, Captain.”

When you turn and reenter your tent, you don’t catch the way Rex’s eyes linger on the closed flap for far longer than they should, heat prickling up his neck as the remnant of your touch burns itself through his pauldron.

“You too… General.”

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[awkward-tension-art]

Misc. Clones x Twi'lek!Reader

I’ve had this idea in my head for a while, so….enjoy?

Cw: Twi’lek stereotyping, Speciesism, reader is a twi’lek, gender neutral pronouns, reader is falsely accused in the last set

Minors DNI (even though theres no smut)

501st Legion:

“Hey tail-head! Why not come here and give me a dance?” 

You paused in what you were doing, turning to stare at the one who said such a thing. 

He was wearing white armor, and clearly a shiny. 

Rex

Ex-fucking-cuse me? 

Rex is going to step between you and the shiny, helmet off and clearly pissed.

“Care to repeat that, trooper?”

His glare is steady. He’s not going to raise his voice or shout but by GOD if looks could kill. 

The shiny is going to start tripping over his words to apologize but Rex isn’t having any of it 

“You see that gunship over there? You’re scrubbing the entirety of it with your toothbrush. Now get moving.”

He isn’t having ANY of that shit in his legion. 

Speciesism? Not in his fucking house. 

After the shiny is hauling ass, he’s going to check on you. 

“I’m sorry, cyare. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again.” 

Rex isn’t a fool. He’s traveled all around the galaxy. He's worked with General Secura. He’s well aware of the stereotypes surrounding your people. 

He won’t tell you, but whenever someone says any sort of twi-lek slur within earshot, he’s making them run laps around the Resolute. 

Fives

He’s going to be speechless for a solid second. 

Someone??? Just said that??? To his mesh’la?

Oh fuck no.

Fives is going to get in the shiny’s face and just growl, “You have some balls, rookie.” 

This is an ARC trooper who is not above breaking some rules. 

One of those rules is putting a shiny in their place

Fives is going to push them back hard enough to make them stumble, “Say it again and I'll throw you out of an airlock.”

Once the shiny had gotten the message and rushed away, Fives will drape an arm around you

He’ll peck your cheek, “They shouldn’t bother you again, mesh’la.”

Fives finds you to be incredible, but he knows that there will be individuals who have opinions on you just because of the stereotypes surrounding twi-leks. 

He’ll definitely get in the face of anyone who gives you a hard time.

After sometime, it becomes pretty well known that Fives’ S/O isn’t to be messed with.

Kix

The medic is less confrontational.

He also knows you can handle yourself, but he’ll cast a glance your way to see if your alright

If you're ignoring the shiny and moving on, he will too.

But if you look uncomfortable/upset that’s when he’ll say something

“Just ignore them,” He tries his best with comfort, but he knows you shouldn’t HAVE to ignore such words.

If the shiny says something else to you, that's when he’ll confront them.

“If you don’t walk away, I just might forget to give you painkillers when you get shot in the next battle.”

That tends to shut the shinies up. Afterall, pissing off the medic is a bad idea

Once you're alone, Kix will put a comforting hand on your shoulder. 

While he hates the twi’lek stereotype, he knows he can’t really say anything to make it go away. This is most likely a constant background noise in your life, and that won’t magically disappear in a day.

Though, he will go to Rex and tell him what happened. Kix can’t change the whole galaxy but he can at least make the 501st more welcoming

Jesse

He thinks it's a joke at first, maybe some playful ribbing. 

Afterall, he does the same with his own brothers. 

But one look at your face and he’s snapped into gear.

“Good one, brother!” The ARC trooper will put his arm over the shiny’s shoulder, “I got a  better one.”

Jesse will lean in close, “If you say something like that again, I’ll personally make you swallow your own teeth, got it?”

He says this with a smile. 

At first the shiny thinks HE’S joking, but then Jesse’s grip gets tighter, and his smile is gone.

“I mean it.”

Once the shiny is gone, he’s going to kiss you.

He’s another one who will go to Rex. This isn’t something your lover wants you to deal with, especially from his own brothers. 

He expects better from them. Even if they're a shiny

If it happens again, that's when Jesse makes good on his threats.

He’s an ARC trooper. He didn’t get the rank by looking pretty.

He also gets a reputation of being protective, so the next batch of shinies that join the 501st already know to be respectful.

Clone Force 99

“Hey, tail-head, why don’t you and I go somewhere and you can show me some of those twi’lek dances up close?”

You sighed, looking back to see a bounty hunter of some sort with a disgusting grin on their face. 

Omega was next to you, brow furrowed, “Tail-head? Why’d they call you that?”

Hunter

“Oh shut it.” is his first response.

If the bounty hunter opens their mouth again, Hunter's second response is to throw a punch.

This is the man that brought his fists to a food fight. His first reaction will be to silence the bounty hunter, his second is to shut their mouth in a physical way. 

Yea, he’s not above assault. 

Once the stranger is on the ground, that’s when Hunter speaks again

“Think twice before you say something stupid next time.” 

He’s going to give you a concerned look and put a hand on your shoulder

“You ok, Cyare?” 

He’s also aware of the stereotype surrounding twi-leks, and he won’t let anyone give you a hard time. 

He kneels next to Omega and essentially teaches her what stereotypes are

He emphasizes that they’re wrong, and she shouldn’t ever assume things based on stereotypes

Anyone who says ‘tail-head’ in his vicinity they’re losing teeth.

He’s aware violence isn’t going to change opinions, but he isn’t going to stand for anyone throwing slurs at you

Hunter cares for you so much, he just wants you to feel comfortable and safe.

Wrecker

He doesn’t think those vile words are being thrown at you at first. He’ll look to you for confirmation.

When it finally clicks, he stands between you and the stranger. He doesn’t even need to say anything, just glares down at them.

After the bounty hunter gets the hint, Wrecker will turn to you and Omega.

“You can’t say that again, ok ‘mega? That’s a bad insult to twi’leks.”

He doesn’t freak out or draw attention to what Omega parrotted. He’s well aware she’s a kid and doesn't entirely know better.

Wrecker may be a bit dense at times, but he’s not stupid.

He knows exactly what the stranger was getting at saying such things to you.

“Good thing they’re gone, right mesh’la?” He’ll ask, holding your face.

He puts an arm around you and the three of you head back to the ship.

He likes to act as your protector. He knows you can handle yourself, but he just likes to feel like he's protecting you. Afterall you’re precious to him.

His heart breaks if you tell him this has happened before.

He is UNHAPPY that this is something you deal with.

He knows the twi’lek stereotype exists, it’s just…different when it's you.

Honesty, he’ll take this to heart and step-in if he sees something like this happen to another twi’lek.

He’s not going to be a bystander anymore. And Omega definitely learns from his example.

Tech

“Well, that is entirely unnecessary.” 

He won’t pick a fight. He thinks it’s best to ignore instigators. 

He also knows that arguing or snapping at the bounty hunter may make things worse

He’ll grab your hand and lead you and Omega away

If the stranger follows, he’ll turn a corner, put you and omega behind him and set his blaster on stun

Once the bounty hunter turns the corner, Tech will shoot them.

“There.” He says, putting his blaster away, “Shouldn’t bother us anymore.”

Once you three are back at the ship, he’ll kiss your forehead before speaking to Omega

“Tail-head is a slur to twi’lek individuals. It’s supposed to insult someone's lekku. You must never say it again.”

Tech is very much aware of both the stereotypes and their origin.

If someone gives you a hard time or throws more insults at you, he’s not going to stand for it.

He has very little patience for ignorance.

Echo

Barely stops himself from throwing hands instantly.

“You want to say that again?” He’s going to get in the bounty hunter's face very quickly, “Say it again. I dare you.”

Echo is a damn ARC trooper. He can make the stranger eat their words.

But, he’ll hold back, for your sake. 

If the bounty hunter doesn’t back down, he casts a glance at you.

Give the greenlight? It's a fight.

You want to move on and forget this happened? He backs down.

He’ll return to your side and just start grumbling, “Ignorant asshole…if they open their mouth again, I swear…”

 He gets really upset about this. And he knows it wasn’t the first time nor will it be the last time this happens to you. 

When you're not within earshot, he’ll explain to Omega why ‘tail-head’ is not something to be repeated. 

Echo is patient with her. She’s just a child.

But like Tech, he had no patience for ignorance from anyone else.

Will snap at anyone who says ‘tail-head’ or other twi’lek insults within earshot.

Crosshair

While everyone has some form of restraint, Crosshair does not.

It’s an immediate brawl.

His patience is a negative 2 when it comes to this type of stuff.

The bounty hunter hadn’t even blinked before Crosshair knocked them down.

He’s pretty silent, returning to your side and putting an arm around you.

He’ll look at Omega and just say a simple, “Don’t say that again.”

Pretty blunt to be honest.

Crosshair is protective. More so than even Wrecker.

His mind is already running, analyzing your surroundings and seeing who else may make snide remarks.

Afterall, if one person was able to say something like that, how many more are there?

He’ll ask how often this happens.

Depending on your answer he’s either slightly annoyed or pissed.

No one should be giving you a hard time simply because you're twi’lek.

Once back at the ship, he’s going to keep a hand or arm on you in any way possible.

He loves you, and he doesn’t want you to ever feel ashamed or bad for being twi’lek.

212th Battalion:

“Hey, I didn’t know the 212th got its own personal dancer,” The shiny slid next to you, “What do you say? Wanna give the boys and I a moral booster?”

You blinked, eyes wide. That was an entirely new one…

Cody:

After Ryloth, he thought his men would behave better than that. So he’s genuinely caught off guard.

“You have 2 seconds to take back what you said, rookie.” He snaps, glaring.

After a stumbling apology is given to you, Cody continues with his death stare, “I expect better from you. You will treat them and every other alien species with respect. Do I make myself clear?”

Very much not happy about this.

If one shiny said something like that to you, who else stereotypes twi’leks?

It’s not just about you, Cody really expects much better from the 212th.

If one person acts like a moron, it reflects badly on the 212th, General Kenobi and the GAR.

They are soldiers of the Republic in a very diverse galaxy. 

However, he’ll turn his attention back to you and grab your hand.

“I’ll make sure that never happens again, I promise.” 

He’s incredibly sweet about it.

Boil:

Instant shame.

This is how he used to sound!?

“Hey!” He’ll snap at the shiny, “Show some damn respect.”

In a way, he’s trying to compensate for his ignorance earlier in the war.

Before Ryloth, he used to throw around ‘tail-head’ all the time. Something he looks back at in shame.

It was Numa, and now you that made him realize how much of a bastard he used to be.

If the shiny persists, Boil will get up in his face, “Back off. Now.”

If something like this happens again, Boil will go to Cody.

Like the commander, Boil also expects better from the 212th

But also, he wants you to feel comfortable among his brothers.

“I’m sorry,” He won’t exactly look at you. He knows the shiny’s behavior isn’t his fault, but he can’t help but feel shame and embarrassment anyway.

A bit later, he’ll hold your hand and just admit, “I used to be like him. Ignorant and self-centered…I’m sorry.”

Boil loves you so dearly. He just wanted to be honest.

He respects however you react

Waxer

Another one who feels shame.

Yea he didn’t throw around ‘tail-head’ or see twi’leks as lesser, but he stood by while others did.

After Ryloth and Numa, he doesn’t stand by anymore.

“Oh shut up!” He’ll snap, “Go throw yourself out of an airlock.”

Waxer is a learner. He’s learned more about your people. Your history. Your culture. 

He's also learned the stereotypes. Where they've come from.

So, he knows what the shiny is getting at by speaking to you.

this guy painted Numa on his helmet. He’s definitely not going to let anyone disrespect you in any way shape or form because of your species.

He won’t get physical, but he will threaten. 

Once the shiny is gone, he’ll put a hand on your cheek, “I’m sorry. I’ll knock some sense into him later, I promise.”

Coruscant Guard

“Hey!” 

Your Coruscant Guard lover was walking you home when someone grabbed your shoulder and turned you around. 

“Guard! Arrest this twi’lek thief! I know they stole my credits straight out of my pocket!” The pantoran woman yelled right in your face.

When you argued, she just yelled louder, “All twi’leks are conniving thieves! Give me back my credits!”

Of course you didn’t steal anything, but this pantoran seemed convinced that you did. All because you were twi’lek.

Fox

The headache was immediate.

“Ma’am, I assure you they haven't gone anywhere near you.”

He wants to defend you more staunchly, but he’s the commander of the CG.

There’s only so much he can do without risking reprimand.

If the pantoran persists, he’ll get rougher, but remain professional.

“Ma’am if you don’t walk away, I will arrest you for wasting Coruscant Guard resources.”

The best he can do, frankly.

This isn’t the first time he’s seen an innocent twi’lek be accused of a crime.

It happens more than he’d wish to admit.

Honestly, he hates it, but there's protocol in place and he's obligated to follow.

But he knows you're innocent. You were beside him the entire time.

Plus, he loves you. He’s not going to search you.

If she keeps giving you a hard time, Fox will step forward, “Last chance, I will throw you in a cell for the night if you don’t keep walking.”

Usually that works.

He’ll keep you close until you're safely home. He won’t talk about it if you don’t.

Though, he does end up telling the guard to be more mindful of random accusations against twi’leks.

Thorn

“Oh here we go…”

He’s…not taking this woman seriously at all.

“I have seen no such thing. Please make a report to the police.” He’ll just deadpan before walking away.

Petty crime such as a pickpocket is 1-800-not-his-job.

He’ll drape an arm over your shoulder and pull you closer to him.

Like Fox, he’s seen people blame twi’leks solely based on stereotypes

And his response is always the same, “Either show me solid evidence or take it to the police.”

If you say this isn’t the first time, Thorn kinda squeezes your shoulder.

“Don’t worry, love.” He’ll whisper, “the boys and I won’t let anyone accuse you of anything.”

He makes good on the promise. If anyone tries to give you a hard time for being twi’lek, there's usually a Coruscant Guard that steps in.

A partner to one of the Guard is well taken care of.

Hound:

He’s going to look at the woman, then look at you, then look at Grizzer. 

He whistles once, and Grizzer licks your hand.

Grizzer just likes you, this isn’t any sort of actual search.

“They don’t have your credits. Move along or go to a police droid.” 

Since the massiff didn’t ‘find’ anything, the pantoran woman leaves you alone.

“Happen often?” Hound is going to ask you quietly when the two of you start walking again.

When you nod, he doesn’t respond. 

Like the rest of the guard, he knows your people often get falsely accused of crimes.

Having a massiff with a good sense of smell makes it quick and easy to find out if they actually committed the alleged crime.

More often than not, the falsely accused is innocent.

But he knows he can’t be with you all the time. You have your own jobs to do.

One minor fear of his is you getting accused and then thrown into a cell.

All because you are twi’lek

He knows his brothers won’t do such a thing, but police droids aren’t so flexible or understanding.

[ireadwithmyears]

address the letters: “to the holes in my butterfly wings”

pairing: Kix and GN padawan reader (platonic)

Word count, guys it’s basically 10 K 💀bc apparently I am in capable of writing anything short.

tags/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, mentions of blood and injury, medical procedures

summary:

In which, the CMO of Torrent Company discovers that you, a Padawan under his care have been hiding injuries and skipping medical checks, and now must take care of you as you suffer the consequences of your actions.

Also known as

Why you should never hide an injury from Kix. he will find out, and he will drag you off to the medbay so that he can take care of whatever mess you’ve made of yourself, scolding you all the wile.

“Look what I found on my bunk.”

You’re interrupted from eating your sandwich in the Cantina when Fives plops down beside you at the table, setting down a tray of food and waving a pink slip of paper in your face.

You’re about to tell him that “Can’t you see that you’re eating and get this paper out of my face,” when your eyes catch on three words written in bold text across the top of the page.

Mandatory vaccination updates. 

The sandwich, that up until this point has been the absolute centre of your attention, listen, you’re fighting a war and you have to appreciate any opportunity that you get to eat food that isn’t bland ration bars, drops out of your suddenly limp hand as you snatch up the paper, now very interested in the contents.

“When did you get this?” you ask slowly, you’re voice distracted, beginning to chew on your lower lip, already feeling the nervous coil in your stomach.

“When I came back to my bunk after the debriefing we had this afternoon. Apparently everyone got one. I bet you 10 credits that your master is going to pretend that he didn’t see it, and try and avoid it until Kix has to tear apart the ship looking for him and drag him to the medbay.” Fives chuckles.

Master Skywalker’s reputation for trying to avoid the medbay at all costs is widely known throughout Torrent Company..

“Kix is going to have a field day. I’ll give it to general Skywalker, he has some creative hiding places,” he continues, eyes lighting up at the memory of Anakin, half hazardously crammed into a supply closet, folded in an impressive, yet uncomfortable looking position as he forced his unwitting tall limbs to fit in the cramped space.

Unfortunately for Kix, your masters habit of avoiding the medbay whenever possible has rubbed off on you, though, you don’t think it’s for the same reason. Your avoidance stems from a place of fear, and, okay, a stubborn insistence that you can take care of yourself, which yes, definitely like master, like apprentice.

But that also stems from a fear. You’re determined to prove yourself, especially being a young Padawan working with those who are much more experienced than you. You don’t want to risk being taken off the field because of some stupid injury, and letting those who rely on you down, especially your master, who’s always bouncing back and getting up and ready to take on whatever is next regardless of what kind of peril he’s just come out of. You want, you need, to prove that just because you’re a Padawan, you’re not a liability, but an asset. You can be strong and resilient like master Skywalker.

So, you avoid. You dodge and you ignore and you pretend not to notice when the routine medical check dates come and go without your attendance. You know it’s only a matter of time before Kix gets on your ass about it. You’re surprised that you’ve kept it up this long. But, this only bolsters your confidence in being able to avoid another successfully.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant, setting the paper back down on the table before you run off into the crowd.

*

Sure enough, there is an identical slip of paper that’s been placed on your bunk. But conveniently, Jedi master Aayla Secura is going on a diplomatic mission to amid rim planet in a last ditch effort to try and convince them not to secede from the republic during the date that’s listed on the page when you’re scheduled for your vaccinations.

Earlier this morning, master Skywalker had asked if you had wanted to join this mission, saying that it would give you a break from being on the frontlines, and it would be easy enough to arrange, as master Secura would rendezvous with the 501st before she departed.

This morning, you had turned him down, listing several reasons as to why you needed to stay with the 501st. Your troops needed you, diplomatic missions were boring anyways, and you didn’t think that you would be of much help to the experienced and capable master Secura, who was a formidable diplomat in her own right. You didn’t think you would be able to add anything of particular value to the conversation, at least nothing that master Secura wouldn’t be able to say much more eloquently and better.

Now though, the only thing that’s running through your mind is the fear of needles and the dread of going into the medbay and that’s enough to make you reconsider everything you had said.

When you tell master Skywalker that you’ve changed your mind, and would actually like to accompany Aayla on her mission, he’s slightly confused considering you had been so adamant that you were needed here only just a few hours ago. 

But, he knows that as a Jedi, you need diplomatic experience. Experience that, before the war, would be very easy for Padawan’s to come by. He knows that you don’t have nearly as much as you should.

These are unprecedented times, though, and Padawan’s being trained during an active war is not ideal. He wants for you to be well-rounded. He has hope that your future won’t always involve war at the centre of it, and any opportunity that you get to learn how to be a keeper of peace should always be encouraged, especially during these times.

 So he gives in pretty easily, and when master Secura arrives, you happily join her. When the ramp of the ship seals behind you and you’re sitting with her in the cockpit, the warm relief that flows through your bones is palpable. 

“Success,” you think to yourself triumphantly.

*

Your triumph, however glorious it might have felt in the moment, is short-lived.

In spite of the fact that some old injuries, that you honestly thought you had done a pretty good job at taking care of yourself, were starting to aggravate you again, the unexpected joy and relief that weaved itself through the force, openly shared between you and master Secura, surrounded you like a warm blanket, protecting you from feeling the things that hurt you.

The planet you had just visited had agreed to stay with the republic, after a tense three days of debate between its political factions. The victory Was a surprise, considering how vehemently the opposition pushed to secede, but it was not unwelcome.

Aayla’s T-6 shuttle docks in the hanger bay of the much larger 501st transport. As you wait for the doors to open and the ramp to fold down before you, you’re still riding on that high, feeling, for the first time in a long time, the thrill of a success. One that you are unable to feel on the frontlines, because even when your battles result in a victory, you are surrounded by so much death and violence that in the end, you don’t really feel like celebrating. 

You’ll never admit it to your master, but privately, you think to yourself that maybe diplomatic missions aren’t as boring as you thought they were. You were able to help resolve a conflict, peacefully, without even having to brush your fingers against the hilt of your lightsaber, which, nowadays, is becoming more and more of a rare occurrence. But it’s what Jedi do, or at least, what they’re supposed to do, so you have to embrace the gratitude of the experience you just had, and try and take it with you going forward.

Your thoughts are preoccupied with these ideas swirling around your head, so you don’t see him until you’re stepping out onto the ramp of the T-6, descending into the hectic and busy as usual crowds of the hanger bay.

When you do, though, you stop dead, and your heart begins to race. 

Shit.

Directly in front of you, at the bottom of the ramp, stands Kix.

One look at his expression, and your stomach flips.

His lips are set in a thin, unreadable line, his brow creased as he observes you with pinpoint focus. Stern, brown eyes observe your every movement. There’s no question that the second you step off the ramp, he’s going to pounce on you like a cat seizing a mouse. 

He stands at attention, body forced into an unbending straight line, such positions you mostly see on the shiny’s, new troopers who are freshly trained during their first days out on the field. His hands are placed on his hips, the position that he assumes before he’s about to give someone, it’s usually your master who you’ve seen it directed at, the lecture of their life.

“Keep moving,” your brain supplies. “Act nonchalant, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll be fine.”

You feel your feet hit solid ground, and your speed picks up, all along, your brain is screaming at you to move. It’s weird how now that he’s standing in front of you, every injury you’ve accumulated over the past weeks is beginning to hit you, all comfort and protection that the force has been giving you to keep you going rapidly vanishing with each step you take.

The uncomfortable angle that your shoulder is sitting at, the pulling of stitches in your leg as you increase your speed. It throbs and aches with sudden abandon. But your fists clench, and you do your best not to falter under Kix’s unwavering scrutiny, just knowing that he’s looking for any flicker of weakness, any sign of pain that registers on your face.

“Just keep going, and maybe, you’ll be able to slip past...”

He steps in front of you, reaching an arm out to easily intercept your path. He says your name, in a tone that breaches absolutely no room for trying to ignore it.

You jump, startled in spite of yourself. He’s effectively got you cornered, and seeing that there’s no way out of this, Your nerves begin to skyrocket, raising like the sound of alarm bells in your head. You look up, eyes meeting his unwaveringly stern expression, And suddenly, you wish that the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

He looks down at you, and he must see something in your disposition that belies your true feelings, because though his face remains set, his eyes somewhat soften, and when he next speaks, his voice is quiet but firm.

“Come with me, please. I need to see you in the medbay.” Though he’s phrased it as a request, you know that it is an order, and one that you must follow.

As a medic for the GAR, and this is something that you’ve heard him say to many a complaining troopers being escorted to the medbay when they don’t want to go, it is well within his rights to exercise such authority and make these orders. Because when it comes to the health and safety of every 501st personnel, whether you’re a Jedi general, commander, or Padawan, Kix immediately outranks you.

You look down at the floor, suddenly finding the marks that are speckled across it very interesting, and mumble a defeated and quiet “Yes sir.” 

When he turns, and you hesitate to follow, he lets out a gentle sigh, moving to place a hand on the small of your back. His voice is low, but reassuring as he ushers you forward.

“Come on, kid, you’re okay,” he breathes, and in spite of the fact that you’re still thinking that jumping out of an airlock would be better than this, your feet, still unwilling, but the slightest bit reassured, begin to move.

*

Coric giving you a subtle pitying glance as he’s reading over a patient’s chart when Kix escorts you into the medbay makes you want to vomit.

Between the two medics,  Kix has the reputation of being a hardass because he’s the CMO. Make no mistake, you do not want to get on either of their bad sides. But, given the choice between the two right now, you think you’re more equipped to handle Coric, who can usually be counted on to soften the blow a bit, with enough pleading glances and apologies.

Your eyes flit to the door that you’ve just passed through, because stupidly, your brain is still trying to make the calculations that if you can just duck out of Kix’s grasp for two seconds, you’d be able to make a run for it.

Unbeknownst to you, however, both medics have been carefully observing your every movement since you’ve entered. Coric, remaining completely calm and at ease, rises to his feet, moving swiftly to stand in the doorway in several long strides. He casually leans against the frame, arms folded.

“Don’t even think about it, baby Jedi. Your master has attempted the same thing you are considering, and he has always failed,” he says, keeping his voice light and non-threatening, making it clear that you need to give up on your fantasy of bolting out of here, but also not trying to scare you off..

You’re just beginning to wonder how the kriff they were able to read you so easily, with one covert glance determining that you were about to bolt when Kix removes his hand from the small of your back, instead, fingers coming to gently grip your shoulder.

The change in his hold is obvious. He is fully prepared for if you try to run. He gives your shoulder a squeeze, in what you interpret as a warning not to. 

Unfortunately, he’s just touched on an injury, you’re not entirely sure what you did, but you messed up your shoulder the last time you were on the field, and even the slight pressure elicits a sharp intake of breath that you’re unable to stop from escaping your lips, and that immediately has the attention of both medics laser focussed on you.

Kix’s anticipation evaporates and quickly melts into concern. Carefully, so carefully, he turns you to face him, keen eyes sharp as they analyze your face.

“Hey,” he calls softly, waiting for you to look at him. “Tell me where it hurts,” he says, so gently that it makes your eyes burn with shame. You look down at your feet.

“That’s uh... that’s, a loaded question,” you admit sheepishly, trying to keep your tone light and joking, in spite of the fact that now that you’re thinking about it, the list of injuries you’ve sustained without reporting to the medbay is a lengthy one, and might make Kix have a stroke.

Kix lets out a controlled, slow breath, eyes momentarily finding the ceiling as he silently begs the stars to give him strength. 

“Kaysh Mirsh solus,” he mutters to himself.

You’ve heard Kix toss that phrase around the medbay on multiple occasions, and though you’re uncertain of what it actually means, he usually brings it out when one of his brothers has done something that he would consider incredibly stupid, which is often.

Coric makes a noise of agreement. “It appears that our stupidly self-sacrificing general has passed on his stupid self sacrificing behaviour onto his apprentice,” he groans. “Will we ever know a day of peace?” 

Kix looks back down at you, his expression calm and restrained. “Come on, then, let’s see what we’re dealing with here,” moving his hand to your uninjured shoulder, he steers you both further into the medbay.

*

Your eyes don’t leave the ground, but you can hear the sound of a privacy curtain being pulled shut around the cubicle that Kix has brought you to. 

When an eerily familiar pink slip of paper is being held up in front of your downcast eyes, you cringe, Arms wrapping around yourself in defence

You can’t even pretend that you haven’t seen it before, because the words mandatory vaccination updates have been circling around your brain the whole time you were out on your last mission.

“Do you know why the GAR enforces these?” Kix begins, and his voice is too measured and calm. 

You lift a brow, questioning. Does he seriously expect you to answer this? Isn’t the answer obvious? 

“Uh... so that we don’t get sick?” You answer, uncertain as to what he’s getting at.

He nods, his face displaying a slight flicker of approval. “Yes, that is one reason as to why, and it’s an acceptable one,” he acknowledges. His frown deepens as he continues. “However, one must look at the much larger picture, at every personnel aboard this ship. The most important reason why mandatory vaccinations are enforced is so that we can avoid many people getting sick and spreading illness to the rest of the crew, so that we may remain fully functional and operational, continuing to serve and protect the people of the republic.”

You squirm beneath the scrutiny of his gaze. You’re starting to see where he’s going with this, and it’s incredibly discomforting.

“I would’ve thought, that as a Jedi, you would be able to more easily see this bigger picture than most others,” he observes mildly. “After all, I know, and I’m sure everyone who spends a considerable amount of time with you can see that there is so much compassion and care for others within your very nature.”

His voice is so genuine, laced with such real kindness in his tone that it makes your eyes sting. Your heart constricts, because he’s just pointed out something that you hadn’t even considered in your selfish haste to avoid this.

By avoiding your vaccinations, you have put every member of the 501st who works with you in danger.

Your arms wrap  tighter around yourself, and you can’t bring yourself to look anywhere but at the pristine white floor beneath your feet.

Kix senses that he’s hit a mark, and his voice gentles considerably. “I also understand that you are young, and still learning to see the bigger picture and how your actions can affect those around you.”

“I, I didn’t, I was scared and I just I didn’t think about...” your voice trembles as you try to answer, tumbling out in a rush of words that race as quickly as your heart. 

“I understand, and it is perfectly reasonable for you to feel that way,” he keeps his voice level and measured. “However,” he continues, and you know what he’s about to say even before he says it. “We still have to face the things that scare us. If you had simply told me how you were feeling, we would have figured out a way to navigate it.” His face is reassuring when you dare to glance up from the floor that you’ve been resolutely staring at for this whole conversation.

“We still will figure out the best way to proceed. However, these vaccination updates are very low on my priority list of concerns when it comes to you, compared to this,” and he holds up a datapad, displaying medical records with your name typed neatly across the top.

The last several appointment entries are highlighted in red, indicating that you did not attend any of them. 

“Do I need to remind you that these appointments are not optional. Any member of Torrent Company who goes out on the field must report to the medbay upon return for examination, as well as attend our regular medical checks to ensure that you are fit for active duty.” It’s clear from the tone of his voice that this is a lecture that he is very practised in delivering.

You lift your head, finally looking directly at him. He’s already made you admit a fear that you desperately wanted to keep to yourself. You try and summon what remains of your dignity. 

“What do you want me to say, Kix?” There’s a hint of defiance in your voice. 

“Do you want me to admit that I avoided these because I had injuries that I didn’t want you to know about? Because yes, the truth is that I did.” Your eyes level with his as you try to make him understand. 

“I was scared of the medical procedures, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” You snap, not particularly annoyed with him, but more annoyed at the fact that your answers sound so stupid out loud. 

“But I was more scared of the fact that you were probably going to take me off the field, and I couldn’t, I couldn’t let that happen. My master was relying on me. Everyone was relying on me, and I couldn’t let them down.” You try to shrug off his concern with a dismissive wave of your hand. “Besides, I’ve been doing fine,” you say evasively.

Kix does not rise to the bate of your seeming anger. He’s much too practised and controlled to let it affect him. He also has the uncanny ability to look at someone, and see everything, read through their feelings, whether they’ve been acknowledged or not, and understand them. So, even though you’re trying to push him away, with what at first glance appears to be frustration, underneath it all, he can tell that it’s just as plainly  fear.

He meets your storm filled eyes unflinchingly, levelling you with a look that is equal parts stern and unwavering, and equal parts concerned and filled with compassion. It makes your insides twist with guilt, and you want to look away, but you can’t bring yourself to as he speaks, his voice calm but steely.

“Are you fine?” he asks, an eyebrow raising as he tilts his head to look at you, his gaze clinical, assessing, even as you just stand there in front of him.

. “I already know that there’s something wrong with your shoulder. But aside from that, I’ve been observing you since you got off your transport. The way you move is slow and careful, not at all like the usual way you dash around the ship. Even now, you’re hesitating to put much weight on your right leg.” He ticks off the things he’s noticed on his fingers like a list.

“Apart from the fact that skipping these mandatory appointments have consequences. If you had kept this up, I would’ve had to bring this to our superiors, that includes the Jedi council,” he gives you a pointed look, even the mention of the high Council makes you shiver. in your experience, whenever you and your master have been summoned to speak with the council, it’s always to be reprimanded, and never good.

. “You could have been Court-martialed,” he says, knowing that his words will hit the severity of the situation home.  

You falter, stepping back as you feel your eyes go wide. “Court-martialed?” you breathe, feeling the blood draining from your face. 

He gently takes your arm, guiding you to sit on a bed as he continues, voice softening. “It is very clear that you are hiding injuries, and though I can understand why, in premise, You did this, the reality is that this will begin to affect your performance in battle. It will not just affect you. You will put yourself, as well as the entirety of the people you are leading, in danger. People could get hurt.  You could get hurt. Because you would be putting not just yourself, but others, in unnecessary danger, your ability to be in the position of a commander could be called into serious  question by your superiors, and for good reason” 

As much as he keeps his voice low and calm, you can sense that he’s disappointed in the way that you’ve handled yourself. Your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek, forcing the tears that prick at the back of your eyes to not fall. You hate disappointing people, and the fact that you’ve managed to disappoint Kix, one of the kindest people you know, makes you want to curl up into a ball and never show your face in public again.

“And that, the safety of yourself, and everyone aboard this ship, is my priority. It is much more important to me than having to report to any superior. The fact that you hold your safety, and by extension, the safety of  those around you, with such blatant disregard, is what concerns me the most, and that is what I need you to understand.” 

There’s a certain gravity in his voice that you’ve never heard before, but it slams into your chest and hits you like a ton of bricks. The implications of what you’ve been doing, of what could have happened to those around you, to his brothers, because of your inability to face your fears begin to swirl around your head with a rapidity that makes your heart race. 

These thoughts come unbidden, and too fast for you to process. The tears, that you’ve been so desperately trying to push back, spring free and begin to fall down your cheeks, unprompted, slowly, and silently. You don’t have time to stop them from coming.

Kix knows that he’s been very direct, and very blunt with you, deciding that this would be the only way to get through to you. He hates having to do it, though. Kix considers himself to be a fairly good judge of character, and he knows that you have such a caring, gentle heart and strong presence wherever you go. So, watching you break in front of him like this pains him.

Your breath hitches in an unsteady gasp as you look up at him, tears blurring your vision. 

“I’m sorry, Ori’vod,” your lip trembles as your voice breaks, wanting to curl in on yourself. “Ni ceta,” you get out in barely a choked whisper.

But he hears you, and it breaks him. 

You’ve never referred to him as ori’vod before, and the idea that you consider him as such, as a big brother, awakens his protective, instinctive nature to gather you close and keep you safe from harm. 

His Vod, mostly his batchmate, Jesse, calls it his mother hen instincts.

He can’t help it, though. Your voice, sounding so much smaller than he’s ever heard it, trembling and filled with tears, has broken what’s left of his resolve, and gently, very gently, mindful of the fact that you’re injured, he takes you into his arms, holding you close to him. Your head buries against his shoulder, and he easily cradles you there, feeling every sharp intake of breath as you cry.

“Oh, adika, shh,” he soothes, hand coming up to gently stroke your hair as he continues to speak softly to you. “You’re okay, I promise, everything is going to be alright. I’ve got you, we are going to sort this out.”

*

“Well,” he says, reading over the results of the medical scan he’s just performed. Would you believe me if I told you that a dislocated shoulder is the least of your concerns?” 

Your eyes find the ceiling, and you exhale a slow breath before asking, “how bad?”

He keeps his voice neutral as he relays the results of the scan to you. “According to your last medical check, you were diagnosed with Iron deficiency anemia, not incredibly uncommon, what with our limited access to rations and food with the proper nutrients,” his brow creases as he continues. “However, preliminary scans indicate that your haemoglobin levels haven’t much improved.”

He gives you a look.“You have been taking the supplement you were prescribed?” he asks, in a way that makes you suspicious that he already knows that the answer is no.

You avoid looking at him. “I was, but they kept making my stomach feel queasy all day, so I stopped.”  

Kix Lets out a long suffering sigh. “An issue that we easily could have rectified by changing your treatment plan if you had just let us know,” he scolds. “Nonetheless, I’d like to do a blood test to get exact confirmation of those levels and see how bad the numbers are so that we can Start getting them back up to baseline.” 

Your stomach does a flip and you cringe silently at the mention of a blood test.

Kix continues, consulting the scan results that are displayed on a datapad. “You’ve got untreated burns on your fingers.” He raises a curious eyebrow at you and your cheeks flush.

“They weren’t entirely untreated, I put them under running water,” you try to argue. The unimpressed look he gives you stops you dead in your tracks.

“It wasn’t entirely my fault,” you defend. “I was fixing one of the starfighters that got hit during our last airstrike. I got R2 to help me with the repairs but he wasn’t listening to my instructions. He crossed two of the wrong wires and caused the circuitboard to spark.”

“And that is why you should never ask R2 for help,” he says with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Those burns weren’t given time to heal, and the fact that you’re constantly wielding a lightsaber has exacerbated them. I will apply a burn ointment to them that should take away the pain and speed the process of healing.” 

He fixes you with a look.  

“The most concerning thing is The blaster wound on the front of your right  calf. Really, vod, you should know that injuries being treated and stitched up on the field, especially when not done by a medic, always should be looked over by a medic as soon as possible, due to the unsanitary environment that they were performed in.”

“Tup did his best to stitch it,” you say, feeling the need to defend the brother who, in spite of the fact that he was not a medic, sutured you up as you took cover from separatist battle droids.

“I don’t doubt that he did. I was the instructor who took every single one of the troopers on this ship through their mandatory medical courses, and I did not let them pass without proving that they were adequately able to handle emergency first aid on the field. However, it still remains that you’ve picked up an infection, and to treat it, the sutures will have to be removed, the wound reopened, and extraction of the infected tissue, as well as a course of both IV and oral antibiotics to clear up anything that remains.”

You stare at him, your eyes growing wide with horror as he explains. “How?” You ask, alarmed.

He senses your nerves and leans forward, taking your hand and running his thumb along the back of it reassuringly. “This is a surgical procedure, performed under general anesthesia.” 

You flinch at his words, and your fingers tighten around his with anxiety, needing something to hold onto. 

“I know that sounds scary, especially if you’ve never been put under before. But I promise, this is a fairly common operation. Me and Coric will both be here making sure that you’re okay the whole time.” he continues to stroke his thumb along the backs of your knuckles.

“Let’s take this one step at a time, though. We’ll take care of the things that are manageable, first,” he says, giving you an encouraging smile.

*

“Hey uh...” you say nervously, watching with anxiety fluttering in your stomach as Kix ties a band just above your elbow, prepping you for the blood draw. The way the band tightens, restricts  and squeezes around your arm Makes you feel trapped. You hate it.

“I have... I’ve had, issues in the past when it comes to these,” you say awkwardly, not knowing how to explain.

Kix only looks up at you, raising a perceptive brow. “Are you referring to your predisposition of fainting whenever a blood draw is performed?” he asks, completely unfazed. 

It’s your turn to raise your eyebrows in questioning. “Don’t worry, Coric already has this listed in your file. I’m going to get you to lie down when we do it.”

He has the sensitivity and grace not to mention the fact that he also knows this because he walked into the medbay to find Coric absolutely tearing into a junior medic for letting you leave too soon after you had gotten a blood draw, resulting in you crumpling to the floor in a faint right outside of the medbay doors. 

At your continued staring, he adds, his voice softening. “It’s a normal reaction, that likely is exacerbated because of your low haemoglobin levels. There’s nothing wrong with you, Vod’ika.” he reassures, gently guiding you to lay down on the bed. “Now, just lay down for me, and we’ll get this over with quickly, and if you faint, you faint. It happens, no big deal, I’ll be right here regardless.”  

And because you’re you, you do faint.

The needle itself is always not as bad as you anticipate it being. The Sting, though prominent,  is small and quick and over before you have time to fixate on it. 

It’s only when he’s pressing a cotton swab into the crook of your arm, encouraging you to keep it in place while he puts a Band-Aid over top, that you register the familiar feeling of drowsiness, vision blurring and ears beginning to ring, that always comes before you pass out.

You think that you might give him some indication, some warning, because he’s removing your hand from where it’s been pressing against the cotton round, replacing it with his own, much more steady one. Everything around you is muffled, and it’s jarring, but in a way that is too far away from your immediate concerns to really react to it.

When you come to, he’s pressing a cool, damp cloth to the back of your neck, other hand gently stroking hair away from your forehead. His voice fades back into your consciousness, a stream of gentle, soothing words as your eyes flutter open.

The feeling of the cloth cools your heated skin, and the hand gently running through your hair brings your senses back to focus, grounding you.

“Easy, adika, i’m right here, you’re safe,” he brushes his fingers against your cheek, and when you react, leaning into his touch, he gives you a small smile. “That’s it, there we go, you’re back. Everything’s good,” he soothes, gently stalling your movement when you attempt to sit up.

“Not right now, vod, stay down for a few more minutes. I’ve already got the blood work running through the scanner, and we should have its results quickly, okay.” You give him a small nod, still not really having the energy to do much else. You close your eyes, taking deep breaths as you come back to yourself, and when the scanner beeps, indicating that it completed its diagnostics, you jump slightly.

Kix moves over to check it as you slowly sit up. “Okay, so, your numbers are definitely not nearly where they should be he says, clearly unimpressed.

“But, Once we have taken care of your more serious injuries, will start you with an iron infusion delivered through an IV before transitioning back to pills. Don’t worry, we’ll have you on a much smaller dosage so that we can hopefully circumvent the discomfort you had in your stomach,” he says with optimism, which makes you feel slightly better about the fact that he’s just mentioned an IV. You’re not given much time to fixate on it, though, because he’s already turning away from the scanner, moving back to you.

“Let’s not worry about that right now, though. We have enough problems having to deal with the mess That you’ve made of yourself. I will do my best to resist calling you a di’kut as much as possible,” he says, hands on his hips, and in spite of yourself, it actually makes you laugh.

*

You didn’t realize how sore and irritated the burns on your hands were until you couldn’t hold back the audible sigh of relief that fell from your lips as soon as Kix began applying the burn cream to them. The pain instantly vanished, leaving a pleasant, cooling sensation behind. He wrapped small bacta patches around your injured fingers, explaining that it would make sure that the healing process was unimpeded by the outside environment.

That was easy, quick, painless. 

Your shoulder, on the other hand, is a completely different matter. As soon as Kix touches it, as gentle as he can be, it flares with pain, and your muscles tense, which just makes it worse. 

“I don’t know how you’ve been functioning with this for as long as you have,” he comments dryly. When his fingers press against the bone, assessing the damage with a practised familiarity, you cry out, eyes squeezing shut.

“Haar’chak,” you grit out, as behind you, Kix preps a syringe with local anesthetic. 

“Which one of my di’kut brothers taught you curse words in Mandoa?” he asks, beginning to disinfect the injection site.

You flinch at the cold and your cheeks flush. “Shit, you weren’t supposed to hear that. I can’t tell you that, I made a promise.” 

“Did you now?” he asks, fighting the amused smirk that plays on his lips. “Well, whoever it was, you might as well put your skills that they taught you to use.”

You look at him from over your shoulder, eyebrows raising in confusion.

He explains, “I need to give you an injection of local anaesthetic so that it takes the edge off of resetting your shoulder correctly. I know those aren’t your favourite , so, I am making a deal with you. Let me do this, and I give you free rein to throw whatever Mandoa insult my brothers have taught you at me, no consequences. Is that fair?”

The unimpressed look you’re giving at the syringe turns to surprise, then, slowly, a smile spreads across your face and you nod, quickly looking away from it. “Deal,” you accept, your voice still shaky with nerves but determined.

“Okay, deep breath for me,” He waits for you to inhale. “Perfect, now, on the exhale, give me that insult with all of your might. Ready?”

He waits for you to nod, then prompts you to exhale as he administers the anaesthetic into the back of your shoulder.

“Osi’yaim, that hurt, you di’kut,” what should be just a little pinch to your already injured shoulder makes you cry out the words, and you swear you can hear the familiar sound of Coric laughing from the other side of the medbay.

Your cheeks flush, you did not intend to be that loud. But you don’t apologize, either, and Kix only gives you a rueful grin, nodding in understanding.  

As you wait for the anaesthetic to settle, Kix warns, “I’m gonna be honest, kid, because of how long you’ve left this injury to sit, even with the anesthetic, setting it is still going to hurt.” 

You close your eyes, grimacing, before nodding with a sigh. “Do your worst,” you say, bracing yourself.

He lays a reassuring hand on your uninjured shoulder. “I need you relaxed, adika,” he says gently. “Trust me, it will only hurt more if you tense like that,” he continues, gently encouraging your shoulder downward with his hand.

“Easy, now. I want you to give me some good deep breath’s. In,” he inhales deeply, holding for a few seconds, “and out,” he lets his breath go in a controlled, slow stream of air.

He waits for you to copy, giving you a few breaths to settle into it as he prepares himself. “Perfect, just like that, keep it up, you’ve got this,” he keeps up the stream of encouraging words as carefully, but firmly, he rotates your arm, guiding your dislocated shoulder back into its proper place with one precise movement.

The sudden flare of pain, even dulled as it is by the anesthetic, takes your breath away momentarily, your vision instantly blurring with tears. When it clears,Kix has shifted to standing in front of you, gently wiping them away with his thumbs.

“Well done, vod’ika, you were so brave,” his words make you want to cry more, because you didn’t think you were brave. You thought that being brave meant confidence, at all times, and not letting other people see your vulnerability. You can’t fully understand it, but, now, you’re beginning to think that maybe your initial idea of bravery was wrong.

Your lip wobbles as you speak, “W what now?” you look up at him with wide, still watery eyes.

He gently strokes your hair. “Now, I’m going to get Coric, and you,” he playfully taps your nose, “are going to take a much-needed nap, if the bags under your eyes are any indication, while we take care of that leg wound.” 

*

It sounds simple enough. 

Kix explains the procedure while Coric preps you for surgery, making sure all your vitals are stable. As he wraps a blood pressure cuff around your arm, he tells you that that’s essentially his job while he’s in here. Throughout the surgery, he will monitor your vitals and make sure that they remain at safe levels. 

“I’m going to remove the sutures, clean the wound, remove the infected tissue, pack the wound with saline soaked dressings, then bandage it back up so that it can heal. It goes without saying that you’re going to be off the field for at least a week. You’ll need to stay here so that we can continue to monitor your recovery as well as change the dressings often. You will also need to undergo a course of IV antibiotics to kill off any lingering infection. This will also give us time to get your haemoglobin levels back up with an infusion.”

Your eyes close tightly as anxiety knots your stomach. “Oh, force, a week? But, my master needs me,” you protest.

When your eyes open again, both medics are fixing you with equally stern looks. “Your master needs you to be safe, and healthy,” says Coric, frowning, as he carefully attaches a pulse oximeter to one of your fingers. 

“If you want to be back on the field as soon as possible, you will take this week of recovery. If you want to argue with me about it, I will make it longer. A week is the absolute minimum,” Kix says, arms folded across his chest, wearing his signature “i’m the chief medical officer, you have no authority here,” expression.

You visibly deflate, reminding yourself that you pick and choose your battles, and picking and choosing a battle with two medics who are very competent at dealing with very stubborn Jedi would be a very stupid idea. 

You can’t help yourself, and in spite of the fact that you shouldn’t, you stare as Kix preps your wrist for an IV line.

Sensing you’re mounting anxiety as your eyes nervously flit around, watching  Kix’s Every move, Coric gently takes your other hand, squeezing when your eyes don’t immediately look at him. When you finally tear your eyes away from what Kix is doing, Coric is wearing a mischievous smile on his face. “So, Vod’ika, who taught you how to curse in Mandoa?” he asks, raising a curious brow.

You only scoff, rolling your eyes. “Kix already tried to find out. What makes you think that I’m going to tell that secret to you?”

“I’ve already got my suspicions. My moneys on Echo or Fives.” he gives you a wounded look, “I thought you would tell me, because I’m obviously your favourite.”

Kix uses this conversation to quickly insert the IV into a vein on your wrist. Reacting to the small pinch, your fingers instinctively tighten around Coric’s hand, squeezing it tightly.

“You’re definitely my favourite now,” you grumble, giving Kix a sidelong glare.

He gives you an apologetic look. “Sorry, Vod, i’m going to run the medication through the line now. It will act quickly, and when you wake up, this will be all done with.” 

You nod, biting your lip nervously. Coric notices, giving your hand another gentle squeeze. “Hey, kid, I know you’ve heard Kix say kaysh mirsh solus all the time. Do you know what it means?” 

You look at him with curiosity, shaking your head.

“Well, essentially it means they are stupid or foolish. But, the literal translation is even more direct .” Coric gives you a conspiratorial smile.

“What is it?” You ask as he leans forward. 

“The literal translation means their braincell is lonely,” he says, completely serious.

You feel a smile pulling up the corners of your lips and a surprised laugh falls from them. 

You feel the medication beginning to enter your system, but you’re so busy laughing that you can’t bring yourself to care. “You better not be bullshitting me,” you threaten,“or I...” you let out a yawn.

“I swear to the force, I,” your eyes begin to flutter and you yawn again, shrugging.

“I’ll think about it later,” you mumble sleepily, before promptly passing out, smile still lighting up your face.

*

Your leg hurts.

That’s the first thing you become aware of as Kix is gently encouraging you to open your eyes.

“Come on, adika, open your eyes for me,” he says  softly, fingers gently brushing against your cheek to bring you back to awareness.

“But it hurts, and I wanna go back to sleep,” you wine, blinking sleepily up at him. 

“Ni ceta, vod’ika,” he soothes, fingers gently caressing your forehead in an apology. “I know it hurts, and you can go back to sleep soon, I promise,” 

He glances at something that you can’t see, giving a small nod,“Vitals look good, the anaesthesia is wearing off nicely, and it doesn’t appear to have affected them too much. Let’s up that IV dosage,” Kix speaks to Coric, who moves to adjust your IV out of your eyeline.

Your leg throbs, and you let out a stifled whimper, hand reaching down, trying to at least find the source of your pain when Kix catches it in his, gently stalling your movements. “Let’s leave that alone for now, vod’ika. Coric is just increasing your pain med intake, that will make it better. Then you can sleep,” 

At the continued expression of pain on your face, he lets go of your hand, fingers gently playing with your hair as he instructs, “nice and easy, adika, deep breath‘s for me, everything’s okay.” 

You don’t believe him at first, but slowly, things become okay. The pain quickly fades and dulls , breathing becomes easier, and your eyes begin to flutter. All the while, Kix continues holding his vigil at your bedside, fingers continuing to gently run through your hair until you fall into a natural sleep.

*

When you properly wake up next, the first thing you notice is that your leg doesn’t hurt anymore.

Whatever pain meds Kix has got you hooked up to are very effective, and your lips pull into a relieved smile. 

The second thing you notice, when you glance around to get your bearings, is the face of your very concerned captain, Rex, at your bedside. You blink slowly, yawning. Although the anaesthetic has worn off, the pain meds still have you feeling like you’re in a fog, and your brain is working pretty slowly.

“When did you get here?” you ask, confused.

“I came straight here after you never reported to the bridge for today’s debriefing. The general said that you would be back today, and it’s unlike you to miss or forget about meetings,” he explains, looking at you, relieved to see you awake, but a flicker of concern still lingering in his eyes.

“Osik, sorry, Rex, I got myself into a bit of a bind over here,” you gesture to the IV that you’re hooked up to, chuckling a little.

“So I heard, don’t worry about it, kid. There wasn’t much to report, anyways.” His head tilts, and he raises a questioning eyebrow.“Who taught you how to curse in Mandoa, vod’ika?” he asks, keeping his voice light.

If you weren’t under the influence of pretty heavy duty pain medication‘s, you would have restraint, you would have thought before you opened your mouth. But for Rex, it was his lucky day.

you smirk, “good old Hardcase taught me everything I know,” you say with pride, smiling fondly at the memory.

Rex carefully files that information away so that he can scold Hardcase for that once he leaves. But he carefully keeps his face neutral.

His face grows serious. “Kix told me about all the medical appointments you’ve missed and the injuries that you’ve been covering up,” his voice is stern, every bit the commanding officer that he is in front of the troops. It makes you nervous, and you swallow, looking away from him.

“I swear to the force, if you ever pull something like that again, I will find out about it, and I’ll drag you to the medbay myself, even if it means chasing you around the ship and stunning you if I have to. do you realize how much danger you were in? How much danger you put others in? That was extremely reckless of you, commander. I’m very disappointed in your actions,  and it will not happen again, do you understand?”

Your hazy memory recalls the conversation you had with Kix earlier, about this very thing, and for some reason, it hits even harder seeing the disappointment, worry and concern etched on the face of the normally composed captain.

Without prompting, you find yourself bursting into tears. 

Later, you’ll blame the pain meds on your inability to keep a grip on your emotions. But right now, all you can do is think about the people, the brothers, you could have hurt, the things that could’ve happened because of you, and the tears just fall down your face, streaming from your eyes, falling down your cheeks, into your ears, dampening your hair.

.“I I’m sorry Captain I I didn’t I,” you gasp out, trying to explain, but your brain is still foggy, only clinging onto the hazy images of loss and pain due to your inability to act fast enough.

There’s a reason why people are convinced that Kix has eyes on the back of his head. Working as the highest ranking medic in the 501st has trained him to be hyper observant of all of his patients, even if he isn’t at their bedside. 

So, even though he’s been taking the time to update your file on a datapad, unbeknownst to either you or Rex, he’s also been watching you like a hawk, and the minute you begin to show that you’re overwhelmed, he’s swooping in on the two of you, protective mother hen mode fully activated by the tears falling down your cheeks.

He steps in front of you, broad shoulders immediately blocking your view of your commanding officer. “Captain,” he says, and his voice is still respectful, but there’s a hard edge beneath it, something stern that you haven’t heard before, even during the worst of him lecturing you.

“You are causing undue stress to my patient, and I’m going to have to ask you to leave, sir,” he continues, physically ushering Rex to the door.

More quietly, out of your earshot, he says,“I have already harshly reprimanded the commander. Trust me, this experience will ensure that the lesson will not be forgotten.  Now, if you want to be of use, get the general and bring him to me, please. I need to speak with him. Between you and me, Rex, I’m blaming this ordeal on him.” 

Rex begins to make an objection, but  Kix is already turning away, folding his arms. “I don’t care if you have to drag him out of council meetings. His Padawan is more important,” he shoots back, before quickly moving back to your side, all of his hard lines instantly fading at the sight of your tear streaked face.

He’s all gentleness and soft reassurances uttered as he cups your face, wiping away your tears. When you struggle into a sitting position, falling against his chest as your arms clumsily reach for him, his arms easily pull you close to him and you sob, trying to explain.

“Kix, I, I didn’t mean to, I never wanted to hurt anyone,” you whisper, clutching at him, burying your face into the crook of his neck, wanting to disappear, feeling his body shift, one hand splayed out, rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles, the other coming up to cradle your head, holding you against his warmth, sheltering you.

“Oh, adika, shh, I know. You didn’t hurt anyone, vod’ika, nothing happened,” he coos, tightening his arms around you. Lips press against your hair briefly, and you continue to cry, letting your emotions run their course as he cradles you to him, gently rocking you back-and-forth, as if you were a much smaller child.  

In this moment, you certainly feel like you are, and it’s comforting, the way he holds and settles you against him , making gentle shushing noises and speaking in low, soothing tones, the words eventually losing their meaning as sleep, yet again, gently pulls at your consciousness.

The last thing you’re aware of is him gently guiding you to lie back down, another medic, you think it’s Coric, passing him a freshly warmed blanket that he tucks around you, and a hand gently brushing through your hair as you drift back to sleep, your storm settled and calmed by his words and his presence.

*

Anakin Skywalker had been in meetings with the Jedi high Council all day, was running on his 3rd cup of caff, and still found himself stifling a yawn every five minutes. So, when Rex silently slipped into the room, politely interrupting the meeting to request that Anakin report to the medbay, he instinctively rolled his eyes, grumbling that he would go later. 

But when Rex stated that this wasn’t actually about him, and was in regards to his Padawan, Anakin was out of his seat in an instant, hastily making his excuses to the council before leaving the room, legs carrying him to the medbay faster than he ever had moved there before.

He doesn’t even stop to look as behind him, Rex calls to a group of troopers in a booming voice, “Hardcase, get Over here right now,  you di’kut, I need to talk to you regarding professionalism when it comes to working with young Padawan’s .”

When he’s escorted into a cubicle, his eyes grow wide with alarm at the sight of you, peacefully asleep, but your face looks exhausted and worn out. You’re hooked up to an IV and monitors, there’s a thick bandage that’s been secured to the bottom half of your right leg.

Kix keeps his voice low and quiet, so as not to disturb you, but he fixes your master with a hard look as he takes him through an overview of your current health status.

“Iron deficiency anemia, burns, a dislocated shoulder, a blaster wound that had to be surgically operated on due to an untreated infection that had grown quite severe and needed to be manually removed, as well as several muscle strains and bruised ribs that can be healed with proper rest.” 

His mouth falls open at the growing list, but Kix only folds his arms, continuing to speak. “General, sir, your Padawan looks to you with the highest regard, and you lead the way by example. All of these issues could have been caught much earlier and treated without having to deal with all this,” he gestures at everything you’re hooked up to.

“This behaviour was learned, and when I pressed, I found that at the root of the problem was fear of disappointing you and letting you down,” he waits for these words to sink in, and when they do, Anakin Skywalker, Jedi general who is known for his strength and recklessness on the field, hangs his head with shame, eyes finding the floor and refusing to look at Kix directly.

His meaning is clear, you are his Padawan, and as your master, it’s his responsibility to set a good example for you, and in this regard, watching pain medication flow through the IV line attached to your wrist, he knows he has failed to do so.

“So, just maybe, the next time you decide that are mandatory medical checks are optional and you can manage on your own, maybe just, consider this,” Kix gestures to you, still deeply asleep.

Before your master can respond, not that he really has any words to do so, Kix turns on his heel, quickly exiting the room before he can be reprimanded for speaking to his superior that way, not that he really cares, anyway.

If he had stayed, though, he would have seen Anakin tentatively move to your side, gently sitting on the edge of your bed as he strokes back your hair and adjusts the blankets that are tucked around you, properly shamefaced as he looks down at you and says in a voice that is soft and rarely heard coming out of him, “I’m sorry, kiddo, this one’s on me.”

*

“And this,” says Kix, quickly injecting the third and final mandatory vaccination into your arm, “is your ticket out of here.”

The week of recovery has come and gone, And you have finally been cleared to head back onto the field, as long as you continue to follow a regimen of oral antibiotics for the next week, and, more excitingly in your opinion, get out of the medbay.

“There you go, you did it,” Fives, who’s been sitting across from you, happily agreeing to be your emotional support/cheerleader, ready with a damp cloth if you need it, does a little celebratory dance that makes you laugh, even as Kix, sensing that you’re feeling unsteady, gets you to lay down.

Fives gently places the cool cloth against your skin, and it’s enough to ground you, pulling you back from the edge.

“That’s it, Vod’ika, well done, you did great,” Kix says encouragingly, giving your shoulder a warm squeeze. “Now, wait 15 minutes, and as long as you’re feeling back to normal, you can get out of here,” he smiles down at you, patting your head affectionately before moving out of the cubicle.

As soon as he’s gone, Fives liens in conspiratorially, face lighting up with mischievousness sparkling in his eyes. “Hey, kid, I bet you 10 credits that I could easily sneak you out right now and we could make this 15 minutes go a lot faster,” he grins.

In spite of the fact that you smile back at him and laugh lightly, you give your head a small shake and throw a cautious look over your shoulder.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been here for a whole week, and the biggest thing I’ve learned is that  Kix and Coric do, in fact, have eyes in the back of their heads. We wouldn’t even make it out of the door.” 

It’s true, you’ve seen several different troopers trying to carefully sneak out of the medbay when they think that no one is watching. 

What you’ve learned, though, is that the medics of Torrent Company are always watching. Nothing gets past their keen eyes or ears, and no one successfully sneaks out undetected. 

You grimace, “besides, I’ve just gotten off of Kix’s bad side, and I have no desire to go back there.”

“So,” Fives says, resignedly coming to sit on the edge of your bed with a sigh. “We’re waiting the 15 minutes?”

You carefully sit up, giving him a nod and a decisive look as you lean your head against his shoulder..

“Yes, Fives,” you affirm, letting out a small sigh of your own. “We are waiting the 15 minutes.”

************************* thank you so much for reading. Comments and re-blogs are always appreciated here.are always appreciated here.

Mandoa translations. Kaysh mirsh solus, they are stupid/foolish. Ori’vod: Big Brother (in this instance) can also be used as big sister or big sibling. Ni ceta: i’m sorry. Vod: Brother/ sister/ sibling. Adika: little one. Vod’ika: Little sister, little brother, or little sibling Haar’chak: damm it. Di’kut: Fool (literal translation is underwear forgeter) which kills me. Osi’yaim: shithead. Osik: shit.

[ladyanidala]

Reader Insert Masterlist

Crosshair

Preservation - a two part story about Crosshair reuniting with his secret Jedi wife after the events of Order 66. Set during an unspecified time between s1 and s2.

Quietly, Gently - a little snippet of Crosshair's thoughts after a fight. More of a character study than anything else. Modern AU.

Tear My Soul In Two (Don't Leave Me) - a four part story involving Crosshair and his soulmate. Set pre Order 66.

Tequila - a oneshot where Crosshair likes Tequila. Utter crackery ensues. Modern AU.

The Ghost Took My Heart - a four part story about Crosshair leaving his significant other and coming to terms with the fact that he made a mistake in doing so. Republic Victory/Skeevy Sheevy dies AU.

An Unthinking Kiss - a oneshot where Crosshair accidentally kisses his best friend. Modern AU. (One of my favorite pieces!)

Left For Dead (Oh Baby, I Won't Leave You) - a oneshot where Crosshair betrays his Jedi wife when Order 66 is given. Based off a Tumblr post I found in the wild.

Insolence Answered - a short and fluffy oneshot of Crosshair making dinner. Modern AU.

The Joy You Give Me - a oneshot where Crosshair likes to brush hair. Modern AU.

In The Midst Of The Night, My Heart, Be Still - a oneshot where Crosshair wakes up from a nightmare, goes out to the porch on Pabu to breathe, and his wife finds him. Can be read as canon compliant.

I'll Share My Heart (Please Stay) - a oneshot where the reader is forcibly transferred from CF99 to the 501st. The reunion with Crosshair is interesting, to say the least. Republic Victory (Ball) AU.

Tu Me Manques (You're Missing From Me) - a reunion oneshot set after s3ep5. Forgiveness ensues.

Hunter

Your Personal Weighted Blanket - a oneshot where Hunter gets a weighted blanket, of sorts.

My Happy Home - a oneshot where Hunter attacks his wife with snuggles. Modern AU.

Echo

A New Reality - a oneshot where Echo comes back from the dead. Set pre-Order 66.

I'll Be Needing Stitches - a oneshot where Echo feggs around and finds out. Modern AU, and written for the TBB 2024 Fic Exchange!

Fives

Dessert - a oneshot where Fives won't let you help him make dessert. Can be either Modern AU or in universe.

Commander Fox

A Picture of Love - a oneshot where reader and Fox attend an art gala for reader's job. Republic Victory AU.

Cody

Kiss It Better (Tell Me We'll Be Ok) - a oneshot where Cody and reader deal with the fallout of a fight. Modern AU.

Jesse

Don't Come Any Closer (But Don't Move Away) - a novella length enemies to lovers oneshot with Jesse and medic!reader. Canon divergent (everybody lives, nobody dies)

[toska-writes]

“Sleeping/Cuddling Clone Headcannons”

Clones x GN padawan reader

(I guess it could be read in a different way butttt I wrote it with the intention of reader being younger)

Enjoy this because I couldn’t sleep last night!

Rex

• He would definitely be the one everyone goes to for a post mission cuddle

• I mean can you blame them? How could you not feel safe in his arms??

• Rex is 100% the one that would trace small patterns over your arms or back to help you both sleep

• He sleeps wherever as long as you stayed asleep and were comfortable- losing feeling in his arm? That doesn’t matter

• His arm is like a weighted blanket around anyone that he shares a bunk with, it doesn’t matter who it is he has to be holding them tightly

Cody

• I think Cody is the type to wrap his entire being and soul around whoever he’s sleeping with

• He just gets so close and it’s not even his fault because he’s asleep

• Would be the person to nuzzle his head in the crook of your neck, and vise versa

• Definitely the big spoon but occasionally will switch

• If you are in the same bunk as Cody I think you would start off barely touching but by morning it would be like you were stuck together.

Fives

• Fives is a complete starfish in his bunk and will take up as much room as he can

• However of course if you do ask to bunk with him he would definitely move over, but don’t be surprised if a leg or arm invades your space in the middle of the night

• If you struggle with falling asleep or nightmares I think he would be a verbal comforter and would whisper things in the dark

• His head would probably rest somewhere on your stomach or on your back

• He honestly loves when there is someone else in his bunk with him and can’t remember the last time there wasn’t

Echo

• Sleeps on his back like he was trained too

• You would just show up one night a snuggle right into his side melting into his stiff shape

• Over the course of a few minutes, whether he his conscious or not he will turn more and more ‘out of regulation’ until he has you in his hold

• He definitely holds you so that his chin can rest perfectly on the top of your head

• He practically radiates heat and it feels so nice on cold campaigns

• After joining the bad batch you found that’s it’s much better for the both of you if you just sleep in each others embrace

Hardcase

• Snores like an absolute freight train

• He use to be a very heavy sleeper but after the events of Umbara Hardcase feels a lot better if your in his bunk too

•He will absolutely be the big spoon and will put his head on your shoulder and by your neck

• Ok but just imagine Hardcase’s bed full of stuff animals- if that’s not the cutest thing then idk what is

• they are all named and he would definitely give you one to cuddle with along with him

• Loves when you trace over his tattoos, it puts him right to sleep

Kix

• Kix doesn’t get enough sleep as is, but using the excuse that if he lays with you you’ll go to sleep too

• You can practically feel how exhausted he his with his tense muscles when he lays down

• In this case he is definitely the little spoon. With everything this he deals with being a medic it’s the least he deserves

• You love making up funny stories to try and soothe each other as you both lay there together

• Kix definitely sleeps with some sort of white noise to try and drown his racing thoughts

Wolffe

• He would protest a little bit saying that he likes his personal space, but my boy is so touched deprived and will think that this is the highest form of trust

• It’s like sleeping with a warm weighted blanket

• Wolffe would be that person that wouldn’t really fall asleep until he knew you were alright

• He would definitely be a head scratcher because of all the times that Plo Koon has done it for him

• Wolffe wouldn’t tell anyone really if his padawan stayed in his bunk or not but everyone could definitely tell by his attitude and that there are no bags under either of your eyes

Fox

• 100% the small spoon. I will fight you on this one don’t try me, I believe this with my whole heart

• Just to be held like that He would pass away

• Following the same theme I think he would grumble about it and not really want to give up some space in HIS bed to you

• He completely melts into your touch and will find a way to get closer and closer to you

• Fox would definitely sleep in the fetal position

• I think he would be one of those people that wouldn’t get nightmares if someone held him tight enough and I stand by that

_____________________________________

There will be a part 2 to this with the bad batch and others!

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @pb-jellybeans @padawancat97 @floffytofu

[sev-on-kamino]

You: Hey, Tup, how do you say ‘will you go out with me’ in Mando’a?

Tup: *says it in Mando’a*

You: Absolutely, I will. Thought you’d never ask.

Tup: 🤯…🥰

Fives: 🤯

Jesse: 🤯

Fives: Write that down! Write that down!

Jesse: *scribbling it down as fast as he can*

[cyarikasmoon]

Find Someone Better

Arc Trooper Fives x Reader

Summary: Blowing off steam with the ARC Trooper you hate (the feeling is mutual).

Pairing: Arc Trooper Fives x bartender f!reader

Word Count: 1471 words

Warnings: smut, pure shameless smut, hate sex, P in V sex, creampie, rough sex, rough oral, oral fingering, mirror sex, quickie, hair pulling, choking, possessive, NASTY

Divider by: @freesia-writes & @saradika

A/N: a gift for my lovely gal @cocolinagoodnight I hope she enjoys! But OOF this was nasty hehe but fun to write! Sorry I haven’t posted in a few weeks life has been busy! But I hope you like this piece! Enjoy! X

Rhythmic grunts echo out in the fresher, followed by a wet slapping noise. The distant sound of music dulled out by the jammed door to the fresher so no one could come in. Because what would they say if they saw such an esteemed ARC Trooper fucking the bartender he hates with such vigor? 

Your hands grip the edge of the sink, the only thing keeping you upright as he fucks into you hard and fast. He fucks you from behind, his body leaning over you as his hips snap forward. The bulk of his plastoid armour, heavy and uncomfortable and grates against your bare skin. Your back is now red and aching. He had pulled the fabric of your uniform top up, your tits hanging free and exposed and a gloved hand moved to grab one of them, grip hard and aching as he squeezed. 

You cry out and he snaps his hips forward hard and fast, pushing in deep and hard, all the way to the hilt. 

“Fuckin’, keep your mouth shut.” He grunts, leaning over you, his short puffs of breath loud and warm against your ear. 

You pant and manage to roll your eyes as he stills for a moment. 

“Afraid someone will catch us, CT-5555?” You whisper with a taunt, pushing back against him, clenching around his cock.

He clenches his teeth and he pinches your nipple hard and you gasp. He releases it in a second so he can grab the back of your hair and yanks your neck back. You inhale sharply, focusing on keeping your lips shut so you don’t whimper for him. You narrow your eyes, sharp gaze locking on his dark gaze as he glares at you with so much anger. 

You can see in his eyes how much he hates being referred to by just a number. But god the results are worth riling him up like this. 

He grips your hair tight, painful and sharp and his other hand releases your bruising hip to move to your throat and you hate how you swallow and squirm as he applies pressure. You hate even more how you feel yourself getting wetter; your arousal soaking his cock buried to the hilt in your cunt. 

His lips quirk up at this, an arrogant self righteous smirk but as you squirm again, he squeezes your throat and tugs on your hair. 

“Stop fuckin’ moving!” He groans, grinding his hips flush against your ass. “You’re so annoying, can’t even stay still for a second.” 

He continues to grind his hips hard and deep against you, grunting in your ear as he does so and you feel so incredibly full. You feel like you can’t breathe, eyes rolling back and flickering shut as you groan. 

“Look at you whining for my cock. Can’t get enough of it can you?” 

The pull on your hair is painful now, tears are pricking in the corner of your eyes, you open your mouth, ready to curse him out when he suddenly pulls out, surprising you with the sudden emptiness. A hand on your back pushes you down, so you are practically bent in half and two hands manoeuvre you so your arse is on full display, as well as your dripping cunt. 

You turn to look, clenching around nothing when suddenly two fingers push in, curling up quickly and your knees buckle.  

“So needy all the time, so desperate for my cock aren't you?” He sneers, fingers pumping in and out at a brutal pace. “Bet you need to be filled all the time. Bet you’ve taken so much of my vode. Anyone who comes into 79’s and spares you a glance. 

“Fuck you.” You gasp out, rage fueling you at his filthy words but you hear how wet you sound as he fucks you with his fingers. 

“Nah, you don’t get to come on my cock. Not yet at least. You hardly deserve it.” He gloats, curling his fingers. 

You roll your eyes, a snarl on your lips. “You keep coming back to fuck me though, don’t you? Can’t get enough of this pussy.” 

He pulls his fingers out and your lips part, ready to add more liquid tibanna to the fire when suddenly a sharp sting. As he slaps your cunt, you cry out, knees finally giving out and he holds you up effortlessly. 

Pushing your hips to the sink and bending you over again, your hands reach out, palms flat against the mirror there. Your eyes manage to focus again as you see the looming bulk of the ARC Trooper caging you in. You barely have time to process when he suddenly pushes his thick length back deep in you, then immediately pulls almost all of the way out before he slams back in. 

With the air knocked out of you, you watch with hazy eyes and soft whimpers as he beguins to fuck you hard and fast. Like a man starved, quenched of thirst and as if his life depended on it. Brutal, fast, powerful. Slick noises fill the air as his cock pounds into you again and again and again. 

“Going to make you come all over my cock. Then I’m going to fill you up so much, I’ll be leaking out of you for the rest of your shift, dripping down your legs.”

The pure filth leaving his mouth drives you closer to your orgasm, losing yourself in the ideas and promises as all you care about is the release.

“You can parade around 79’s, serving drinks looking so fucked out. All cock dumb because of me.” 

 You hate how you mewl at his words, hands clammy against the mirror and you see how wrecked you look.

“Going to ruin everyone else for you. No one will ever fuck you as good as I do. No one will ever make you come like I do. You can go after as many clones as you want. They. Arent. Me.” 

He grunts out each word with a powerful thrust, causing your breath to hitch and rise in octave. 

He somehow moves after, hand in your hair tugging hard and other hand, palm on the small of your back, pushing you down on the sink, the edge of it digging into your abdomen uncomfortably but you don’t care. 

You’re so close. 

“Fives!” You give in, yielding and crying out his name. 

The dark breathless chuckle leaves his lips and he knows he’d won this round of the silly tooka and womp rat game you play when he is planet side. 

“Wasn’t so hard was it?” He smirks. “So fuckin’ annoying-” 

The palm pushing your back down is gone and the moment his fingers touch your clit your gasping and moaning, writhing under his touch as your aching clit finally is given attention. He moves faster and deeper, driving his cock home deep in your cunt as his finger tipers rub quick harsh circles, rushing your orgasm. 

The build up increases rapidly, and it hits you like a tidal wave as the tremors travel through your body as you come hard and faster, body shaking and you cream over his cock as it plunges deep. You let out a broken sob of a moan at the sudden feeling and all you can do is watch in the mirror as he pulls your hair, arching your back as he comes with a choked groan. 

You feel his white cum paint your walls and fill you up deep as he grinds his hips into you, riding out his orgasm and taking you into oversensitivity as he is merciless with your clit. As he finally slows to a halt, you grab his wrist and yank him away from your throbbing cunt. 

His cock slips out and you shudder at the feel of his spend trickling out of you slowly. You clench trying to keep it in and turn to look at him, holding onto the sink for support. You pant heavily, chest heaving, shining with sweat. Fives tucks his softening cock back into his blacks and attaches his cod pieces again and picks up his discarded bucket. 

He stands there. chest moving fast, but with the plastoid armour covering his large build, he already looks composed. Put together as if he hasnt just almost fucked you within an inch of your life. He looks you over, lips turning up smug. 

“I fucking hate you.” You breathe out, the words weak and half hearted and he snorts. 

“Hate you too, sweetheart.” He turns to leave the fresher and glances back with a smirk. “Try and see if you can find someone better until I’m back on Coruscant.”

You glare in fury as he leaves but your cunt already aches at the idea of your next encounter with Arc Trooper Fives. 

[knightprincess]

Magic Medic (Part 1 of 3) - The 501st

Words: 2.2k Requested by: @rexmeshlasblog Note: She/her pronouns and Y/N are used. The second part will also include an OC (Iseult)—it was originally meant to be a one-shot but became a mini-series instead.

The war was brutal, even for the bravest of people, even for the troopers who had been created to fight for the republic tirelessly. Often with no reward or gratitude for the battles won and sacrifices made. There is no time to truly mourn and grieve the loss of their brothers who perished on the many battlefields spread across the wartorn galaxy.

Despite the never-ending stream of battlefields and warzones, some troopers had found something to help them keep fighting even when they wanted nothing more than to live a normal life, to be free and be able to choose what they wanted rather than someone deciding it for them. Rex was one of those lucky few. His reason for fighting outside of loyalty to what he believed in and his brothers and friends was a medic—specifically, the civvi medic assigned to the 501st.

She was beautiful, an angel in the eyes of many. Gentle, kind, and innocent, even with a contagious laugh that could get even the grumpiest men to smile. (Y/N) Devitt was her name. She comes from a small, peaceful island on an outer rim world, so out of the way, it hadn't been touched by the war and was almost as unknown as Kamino.

She would speak of her family on the odd occasion, but only when asked. Her parents had passed on when she was just a little girl, too young to truly remember them, so her uncle had taken her and her three siblings in and raised them as if they were his own. All three of (Y/N)'s siblings had applied for the GAR, too, when the republic announced they were hiring civilians. One of her brothers was a mechanic assigned to the 212th, and the other was a cryptographer stowed away in the military base on Coruscant. Finally, her sister was a medic, and she was often on rotation. She'd be wherever she was needed. As was typical for civvi medics, there weren't enough for each legion to have their own.

"Do you think Rex knows?" asked Jesse, looking to the datapad in hand; on it was the personnel file of the civvi medic identified as CM-1916. As was customary for the files of civvi personnel, there was a picture and a few personal details, such as last name, homeworld, gender, and age, but that was it. "Our angel is set to be transferred to the 104th," added Jesse as he handed the datapad to Fives and Echo.

Kix stood in the corner, still trying to process his feelings. (Y/N) was the most helpful medic they'd had so far. She had been with them twice throughout her rotations; the first time, she'd not been afraid to speak her mind or have a laugh with the boys. This second time, she'd been calmer, less sarcastic, but still brought light to their dark days.

"She never mentioned she worked with the commandoes before," worded Fives, astonishment flooding his voice as curiosity began to take over. (Y/N) wasn't any stranger to telling stories of her time with other legions, and on the occasions she was back on Coruscant. But she never stated she'd been assigned to Foxtrot and the unorthodox Clone Force 99.

"(Y/N)'s too gentle and innocent to be around Gregor," voiced Kix, almost storming over to the trio of Jesse and the Domino Twins, ignoring Hardcase's mischievous-filled chuckle coming from the stack of crates nearby. Almost as if he was privy to something no one else knew of.

"Rex," called Hardcase when the Captain appeared. There was little doubt he'd come looking for them upon noticing they were absent from the barracks again. There were few places to hide on board a Jedi Cruiser, so Rex only had to eliminate each hiding spot or guess from the small number to find them. "Did you know our precious (Y/N) is being reassigned? The 104th."

"Nobody told me," replied Rex, a smirk appearing across his lips in seconds as his eyes lit up ever so slightly. He managed to stifle his chuckle before it rumbled too loudly. More about what he remembered about (Y/N) and the hidden truth the boys in blue, even General Skywalker, had yet to learn. "(Y/N) just told me she will be staying with us for another rotation," announced Rex, watching as the confusion spread from one brother to the next until it circled back around to where it started.

Fives soon looked back at the datapad, intrigue beginning to paint itself across his features. He was curious. Was there a miscommunication somewhere? Or had the personnel file yet to be updated? Echo soon seemed perplexed. How was it MC-1916, their (Y/N) was to be assigned to the 104th and remained with them simultaneously? They all knew she was a talented medic, but even she couldn't be in two places at once.

Echo soon handed Rex the medical personnel file. A deep chuckle escaped him as he shook his head when his golden eyes landed on the screen. However, the captain didn't elaborate or speak of what had tickled him. Instead, he just grinned as he left the cargo hold, leaving the five troopers known for mischief-making confused in his wake.

"I get the feeling he knows something we don't," Jesse said, his golden eyes locked on the door Rex had chuckled through a few seconds earlier.

"You think," replied Echo, so fast it was as if the Arc Trooper had the words resting on the tip of his tongue. Once again, Hardcase laughed, louder this time, but again, he didn't elaborate or shed light on the theory he was sure held truth to it. After all, in a drunken haze the month prior, he was sure he'd seen two of (Y/N) at the bar of 79's letting loose while on shore leave. He never said anything about it nor asked her, instead believing he'd been so drunk his vision and mind were playing tricks on him.

"Hardcase," called Kix, turning his attention to the hyperactive brother, who seemed lost in thought but smirked like he was waiting for chaos to unfold. Bouncing in his seated position as if he vibrated from all the energy coursing through him. "What do you know?" cautiously asked the medic as he tried to decipher if Hardcase knew anything or was ribbing them again.

"Nothing," replied Hardcase, between his chuckles and sniggers. "Just something I think I saw last month and what Comet said a while back," he added innocently as if he was a cadet again on Kamino being punished for purposely winding up the bounty hunter in charge of training.

"Something you think you saw?" repeated Jesse. His interest was piqued, although he was unsure if it was because of Rex's earlier reaction or the mystery that seemed to unfold before them now. "Do tell."

"At 79's before we were deployed to Seleucami," began Hardcase, thinking back to the fun night again. "I was drunk, seen two of (Y/N), both of them were at the bar, one talking to Cody and Howzer, the other appeared to be playing games with the Bad Batch," he explained, rubbing the back of his neck as if to buff away the embarrassment. The two versions had been identical next to each other, yet no one else seemed to notice there were two versions of (Y/N).

"Two (Y/N)'s," spoke Kix, hearing Fives and Echo sniggering between themselves, almost as if they were in disbelief. Jesse was no better, practically stunned into silence—no doubt questioning how they wouldn't have noticed two versions of their angel. "I love her, but I can't handle two. Be like those two but worse," he commented, throwing a limp hand toward Fives and Echo.

"At least we'd know how she feels dealing with us," replied Fives, ignoring the previous comment, even when Echo pretended to be offended by it. "Makes you wonder what the 104th think is going on; Wolffe's not exactly one for mishaps," added the Arc Trooper, recalling Rex saying the battle-worn commander only seemed to like one of the civvi medics to pass through. Sarcastic, loud, and strong-willed, his eye hadn't bothered her, nor had his growls when she dragged him to her medbay.

"I don't think he'll care as long as the civvi medic knows what they're doing," replied Echo, looking up when the door to the cargo hold swooshed open. Rex returned behind (Y/N), now dressed in ordinary civvi clothes. Hyperspace was her off-duty time, or at least that's what they liked to say. (Y/N) however, always said medics didn't have the luxury of being off duty. Someone always needed their help.

"(Y/N)," called Jesse, confusion still written across his lips. "Why didn't you tell us about your ability to be in two places at once?" he asked, hearing (Y/N) sweetly chuckle, her eyes lighting up in amusement.

"I thought you boys already knew I could teleport," replied (Y/N), as another small giggle escaped her. Even more so as she witnessed the small group trying to figure out if she was serious or not. Although she'd admit she found it amusing, they hadn't seen the truth yet, even when all the clues were before them. "My ma was a witch from Dathomir; she taught me a trick or two," she added, her smile brightening just slightly as mischief began to lace through it.

"Neat trick, even if confusing when first seeing it," added Rex, refusing to admit he knew the truth. He was happy to keep it a secret for a little longer, if only to get some overdue payback on the five brothers gathered in the hold. "I don't think General Skywalker or Commander Tano quite wrapped their heads around it yet either," laughed the captain, throwing the two Jedi into the conversation for good measure.

"Do tell," called Kix, his brows sown together as if he suspected something wasn't quite what it seemed. Echo seemed to share his suspicion, although it was unclear if they were on the same trail.

"First date of all times," answered (Y/N), recalling that it had been an accident. Thankfully, Rex understood after it had been explained to him thrice. "Got a little distracted while waiting for Rex to return from the refresher, accidentally teleported to the bar," she explained, another sweet giggle escaping her lips. "Poor Comet, he didn't know what to do."

"Nah, the first time I noticed it was at the base," corrected the great Captain. Recalling the event, even now, it still drew a chuckle out of him, especially when he'd not been the only one to witness the unusual event or be bewildered by it. "You and Fox walked past me, Cody, and Wolffe. We saw you again with Clone Force 99 when we rounded the corner," recalled Rex.

"What …" Jesse called out in utter bewilderment. "How … What … I don't get it … What?"

"So you can teleport and pester more than one of us at a time?" questioned Fives, "Please teach me, please, please, please," he begged, his mischievous glint returning although tainted with confusion. He'd never met a civvi who could teleport, let alone cause so much chaos by helping people.

"What do you need to teleport for? You got Echo," called Hardcase, laughing at himself when he fell off the crates he'd previously been perched on. "You two switch so much; it's a game called Guess the Domino."

"Should we tell them?" asked (Y/N), looking down at the personnel file on the datapad. Her smile only seemed to widen when she did. Even more so when she knew all the clues to the truth were in front of the troopers, especially if they looked close enough.

"Nope," simply replied Rex.

"Tell us what?" called Kix, curious now more than ever. "Rex, (Y/N), tell us what?"

"I still owe you a caf date, right?" asked Rex, recalling when he had to take a rain check. He'd skipped the date to ensure General Skywalker's secret stayed as such.

"Yup," voiced (Y/N), popping the p. While taking the hint to draw out the torment of the collection of boys in blue.

"Rex corrupted our angel," Echo said playfully, accusing their captain. "Wait, don't medics outrank everyone?'

"You boys are smart; you'll work it out," called Rex as he led (Y/N) back through the door. He intended to take her to the mess hall for the caf, if only so the pair could laugh about it a little bit more. "Eventually."

"Game on," voiced Fives, accepting the challenge to figure out the truth. "I'll wager we'll have it figured by the time we get back to Coruscant," he called, acting far more confident than he felt. How were they going to figure out what was going on? What Rex and (Y/N) were hiding from them.

"You're not gonna let them live this down, are you?" asked (Y/N) as the two walked toward the lift.

"Nope," replied Rex with a mischievous grin of his own now. "Although I have a few ideas on how to prolong it," he added. "It involves Iseult," he whispered when close enough to ensure no one else heard the whispered name or learned about the secret weapon of mischief.

Part 2 - Part 3

Knight Princess Masterlist

[wanderinginksplot]

Fives + Overcharge

Fives x gn!reader (no use of 'y/n' and no pronouns). Romantic.

Word Count: 2,700

Warnings: self-doubt, mentions of lack of payment for clone troopers, ridiculous fluff, mild extortion

---

“Ooh, there he is!” your coworker Lanji whispered as she walked past you. She did a little shimmy, turning her movements into a dance as her head-tails swayed. The pretty Twi’lek was a favorite in the GAR’s mess hall, and more than a few troopers paused to watch her graceful actions.

You didn’t have to ask who Lanji was talking about - the trooper came into the mess for almost every meal when the 501st was on Coruscant. Of course, he didn’t have much of a choice. The GAR provided this food. Troopers were welcome to take their meals elsewhere, but they were responsible for covering the cost. That was tricky for beings who weren’t getting paid. 

So you saw a few hundred similar faces every day working in the GAR’s Coruscant mess hall. It was a simple job and you liked it. Maybe it was a little silly, but you liked knowing that you were helping the Republic, even in something as basic as making sure the troopers were fed. Besides, your job gave you a different perspective on the army fighting against the Separatist droids. 

It didn’t hurt that some of the troopers took the rare opportunity to interact with a civilian and used it to flirt. One of the most frequent offenders was a trooper named Fives. 

Fives was a born flirt, and he was good at it. He had a line for every job you could possibly do around the mess hall, everything from compliments to more… suggestive options. He was handsome, too. All of the troopers were, but there was something about the way his humor shone across his face and intelligence burned in his eyes. And he was loyal, if you were to judge from conversations you had half-overheard between him and his brothers. 

But you kept yourself from melting too obviously around him. Someone like Fives flirted as a habit, not as a way to start a relationship.

“There’s my favorite GAR employee!” the man himself crowed, breaking you out of your internal reminder not to overthink this. 

“What gives, vod?” the trooper beside him asked, laughing despite the false outrage on his tattooed face. “So much for having my back.”

“You’re not an employee, Jesse,” Fives explained patiently. “Employees get paid, remember? Employees get credits. We just get paid in gratitude.”

Jesse nodded understandingly while you choked on air. You hadn’t been expecting Fives to do an impression of Chancellor’s Palpatine’s quavery voice, much less for that impression to be remarkably accurate. “Is- Uh, is this everything?”

“Yep,” Fives told you, leaning against the hip-height counter between you. He glanced you up and down in a leisurely study. “Unless you want to throw your comm frequency in. Or maybe a little more than that… Don’t you have a break coming up, sweetheart?”

He flirts with everyone, you reminded yourself sternly. Don’t take it seriously or you’ll look like an idiot.

“Nope, sorry,” you told him with a cheerful smile. “Just finished a break, actually. I don’t have another on this shift.”

A sly glint entered Fives’ eyes. “That’s okay, maybe we could do something more time-consuming. When are you done tonight?”

Your breath caught in your throat. This was more than simple flirtation, right? This was an actual invitation. Wasn’t it? Or were you misreading the situation again? He flirts with everyone…

“Fives, stop harassing people,” a stern voice cut in. When you glanced over, you spotted the tired face of Captain Rex. The captain lifted the loaded tray in his hands. “I have work I need to get back to.”

“Okay, Captain,” Fives agreed cheerily and you felt a little flat. If it had been an invitation, he didn’t seem too concerned with the interruption from his Captain. 

You finished recording all of the items on Fives’ tray and offered him a smile. “You’re good to go.”

Fives picked up his tray but paused, leaning in to inspect the screen displaying the list of everything he had taken. With a comical look of suspicion, he glanced over at you, brown eyes dancing. “That looks a little steep. Are you sure you aren’t overcharging me?”

This was more familiar ground, and you found yourself relaxing. It was the line Fives used every time he interacted with you at the checkout area. You faithfully delivered your lines from the little script the two of you had subconsciously developed, offering the response you always did: “You don’t pay for any of this, the GAR does.”

“Just trying to be responsible with the Republic’s credits,” Fives told you. As always, the answer was given with a winning smile. 

Unlike every other time, his playful manner was undercut by a loud groan from the line that was forming behind Fives and Jesse. “C’mon, vod, some of us want to eat today.”

Jesse shifted his weight nervously. “Fives, maybe we should-”

“I know, I know,” Fives grumbled. He glanced back at you, reluctance written across his handsome face. “Hope I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

And then he was gone, leaving you to work your way through the long line that had formed. The dinner rush kept you so busy that you didn’t have time to be flustered about your most recent encounter with the 501st’s famous flirt.

When everyone was through the line with only a few grumbled complaints aimed your way, Lanji came back to your register. She made as if to jump up and sit on the rail that lined the checkout lane, but you gave her a warning look. Your manager was never happy when people sat on the rail and you had ended up scrubbing it for an hour last time. Lanji stopped herself, leaning against the rail instead.

“So?” she pressed, the delicate pink of her closer head tail curling as if to implore you for information. “What did he say?”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” you told Lanji stubbornly, pretending to dust your workstation. 

“Fives, obviously!” she replied, far too loud for comfort.

You hurried to shush her, but no one had taken any notice. The noise of the troopers in the mess hall was louder than anything less than a shout. “He asked me when I’m done tonight.”

Lanji squealed, and that was loud enough to attract some attention from the dining room. You shushed her again, but she paid no attention. “And? Where are you going? Do you have time to change? I have some clothes you can borrow. Not that you don’t look fine in that, but you’ll want to dress up for a date-

“We’re not going on a date, Lanji.”

Her rose-colored face scrunched in confusion and disappointment. “What? Why not?”

“Because he didn’t mean it,” you reminded her, trying to take your own explanation to heart. “Fives flirts with everyone.”

“He doesn’t flirt with me,” she countered. Despite yourself, you had to admit that it was a good point. Everyone flirted with Lanji. She wasn’t done, however: “And I’ve asked around. He doesn’t flirt with anyone else here. Just you.”

There didn’t seem to be an answer to that. Lanji, to her credit, didn’t rub your speechlessness in your face. Instead, she just gave you a victorious smile and strutted away. 

You were working the evening shift that night, and with the dinner rush past, you didn’t have much to do but think and mindlessly clean until it was time to close the mess hall for the night. One by one, your fellow mess hall workers left for the night. You were the lucky one who got to stay, finish the tasks that needed attention, then program the droids to do the overnight cleaning. 

By the time you had completed your work, it was almost ten and you were more than ready to leave. It had been a long day, but it was finally your day off. 

Which made it all the worse when you stepped through the GAR’s front entrance and realized you had left your ID badge inside.

“No… No, no!” you chanted, frantically patting at every pocket you had as if that would make the slim card materialize once more. It didn’t work and there was still no sign of the badge. When you paused to take a breath, you could picture it resting neatly next to the recorder screen of your workstation.

It was the perfect storm of consequences: you couldn’t get back into the building without the ID. If you left it there, the cleaning droids would read it as garbage and dispose of it since no lost items were meant to be kept at the checkout counter. The GAR charged over two hours of pay to get a new badge, and those were credits you didn’t want to part with. 

And yet, you had no real options. All of your coworkers were already gone and you had no ability to program the droids to leave the card where it was. By the time anyone arrived to help, your ID would be long gone.

When you let out a singularly self-pitying groan, you heard footsteps and the sound of your name in a familiar voice. “Are you okay? What happened?”

It would be Fives, honestly. You forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace. “I left my ID card inside. The cleaning droids will throw it away. And I can’t get inside without my ID card.”

Fives’ brow furrowed, but you shrugged before he could say anything sympathetic. “My own fault. I know better. This is gonna hang over my head all day tomorrow…”

“I’ll get it for you,” he offered.

You stared at him, unable to fight the surge of hope behind your ribs. The feeling deflated only a moment later when you realized the flaw in that idea: “The cleaning droids lock down the mess hall. You won’t be able to get in.”

Fives winked at you. “Let me worry about that.”

And then he was gone, slipping in through the heavily guarded main door. You took a moment to be jealous of him - the troopers all had access to the building literally encoded into their bodies. That had some horrifying implications, but it meant that they didn’t have to worry about ID cards or the potential of losing them.

You waited nervously outside of the GAR building for a long time… Far too long, actually. Even accounting for your own racing thoughts, you stood there long enough for Fives to have reached the mess hall and come back a handful of times. 

As you stood staring fruitlessly at the entrance where Fives had disappeared, you tucked your hands into your pockets and wished you had thought to bring a thicker jacket. It wasn’t necessarily freezing outside - the nature of Coruscant’s climate control tech meant it couldn’t be dangerously cold - but that didn’t stop the shivers.

Fives had clearly been caught by someone or something. Was he in trouble? Worse yet, what could you really do about it? You couldn’t get into the building. That had been the problem in the first place.

You were muttering curses under your breath and kicking at random debris on the duracrete sidewalk when the sound of the door opening behind you made you whip around. Fives reached to steady you - unnecessary, but the warmth of his hands was welcome. 

“Oh, you’re okay!” you told him, sounding breathless even to your own ears. 

Fives furrowed his brows. “Yes? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You took so long…” you explained, feeling sheepish. When you pulled your eyes from his face, you noticed that his hands were still on your shoulders and you shrugged them off. 

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Fives said. For a moment, you thought he was apologizing for his grip on you, but realized that he wasn’t nearly as preoccupied with it as you had been. Embarrassing. “I ran into one of my brothers, and he wanted to come along.”

“Did you get it?” you asked, sparing only a glance for the other trooper who stepped out of the building behind Fives. 

“Yeah!” He sounded victorious. “Took Kix and I a little time to get around the droid lockdown, but we figured it out.”

After a moment of fishing in his pocket, Fives held up the small square of your ID and the tension disappeared from you. “Thank you so much, Fives! I don’t know what I would have-”

But Fives pulled the ID away as you reached for it, holding it out of reach. “Ah, ah. I think I deserve some kind of payment for such a good deed.”

Much as you hated to admit it - because it was a fair request, all things considered - your opinion of Fives dropped slightly at that. You sighed. “I have a few credits I can give you, but I can’t spare a lot.”

“I don’t want your money,” Fives told you, sounding insulted. “I want something cheaper but much more valuable for my payment. Just one little kiss.”

“A kiss?” you repeated blankly. Your heart was suddenly pounding, and you only hoped that he couldn’t see it in your throat. At the risk of sounding too eager, you filled your tone with suspicion. “A kiss where?”

“Wherever you like,” he replied, his eyes filling with something you didn’t fully recognize as he added, “Though I have a few preferences.”

You considered it, glancing at the other trooper to give yourself some time. Kix, you were pretty sure Fives had said. It was hard to tell for sure - Fives seemed to be the only trooper who had chosen to tattoo himself with a permanent label. “Aren’t you supposed to talk him out of stuff like this?”

Fives made an offended sound while Kix scoffed. “No one can talk Fives out of anything. Especially when he’s this determined.”

That made you smile, and you beckoned Fives closer. With a grip on his chin - in case he decided to do something cute that would probably make you fall in love with him - you held his face still so you could kiss him on the cheek. Admittedly, it did land a little closer to the corner of his mouth than you meant it to, but nothing that looked too suspicious. 

When you pulled away, Fives looked a little dazed. He handed you the ID badge without further comment. You had tucked it safely away before he spoke again: “Your hands are cold. Let me take you for a cup of caf.”

“Fives, you don’t want that,” you said softly, hating the disappointment laying thick in your voice. “It’s fine to flirt with people and not follow it up with anything else. It’s okay - you don’t need to pretend you want something more. You’re just a flirty guy.”

Kix made a strangled noise before he gave in and laughed. Fives sent a betrayed look his way and he shrugged. “Sorry, vod, but that’s pretty accurate. You do like hitting on people.”

Your stomach sank at the confirmation of your suspicions. “Like I said…”

“Wait,” Fives pled. Despite your instincts, you turned to face him again. “I like you. I have for a while. The only reason I didn’t ask you out before was that… well, I didn’t think you would say yes. I thought flirting would be good enough. But it’s not. I want to go out. I want to talk. I- I want to know more about you and tell you more about me. So? What do you think?”

“You were really flirting with me?” you asked, feeling a little stunned.

“Yes,” Fives confirmed with a miniscule nod. “I wouldn’t have kept flirting if I wasn’t interested.”

Kix snorted and Fives glared back at him for a moment. “Okay, I might have kept flirting. But I wouldn’t have stopped flirting with everyone else.”

“Then I guess there’s only one problem,” you concluded. 

“What?” Fives asked, looking distinctly nervous. 

---

You raised a single brow and crossed your arms. “A kiss for my ID? Are you overcharging me?”

Fives beamed at your joke. “Sweetheart, compared to what I wanted to ask you for, that was the deal of the millennium.”

Author's Note - I'll admit, I struggle with Fives' characterization, but I love him and I'm pretty happy with how this turned out!

Thanks for reading! You can find other works on my masterlist or sign up for my taglist here.

Taglist: @rexs-wife @sugarpuffsstuff @stargazingthenightaway @just-some-girl-92 @kimageddon @ladysongmaster @carodealmeida @adriiibell @boomtowngirl @bitchylittleredhead @blck-omen @lackofhonor @captxin-rex @literallydontlook @salaminus @lucyhelena @808tsuika @ladykatakuri @bikerlorian @torchbearerkyle @frietiemeloen @tsedeshgishnii @buddee @justanothersadperson93 @leotatombs @mavendeb @rain-on-kamino @itsagrimm @captain-splock-you @dancingwiththeplanets @hummellchen @theclonesdeservebetter @cyarinka @ladyemxo @maulslittlemeowmeow @rosmariner @staycalmandhugaclone @coruscanticoffee @crookedwiings @eyecandyeoz @fordo-kixed-rex @musigrusi @lucyysthings @dinsverdika @bombshe77 @cawyden

[dragonrider9905]

Also find me on Ao3--DragonRider9905

Everything is separated by series

Canon

One Shots/Stand Alones

Hunter's Stress Journal

Clonetober 2022

Lessons from the Past Offer Hope for a Golden Future

AUs

To Be a Jedi (Hunter Force-Sensitive AU)

The Clone's Incomplete Guide for Navigating the Afterlife (We're Learning as We Go)

Technically, We’re in Love (Tech/OC)—Same AU as Broken, Not Shattered

Broken, Not Shattered (Crosshair/OC)(Hunter/OC)—Same AU as Technically

With You From Dusk till Dawn (Hunter/OC)

The World Where You Live (Hunter/OC) (Tech/OC)

Reader Inserts

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy!

Feel free to comment and/or reblog. Would be much appreciated!

[vizslasaber]

FRIENDLY FIRE ──── captain rex.

SUMMARY | Newly knighted and unaccustomed to combat, you’re suddenly given your first assignment on the shadowy world of Umbara. Waiting on the planet’s surface is the start of a mission filled with death and deception—and the companionship of someone whose smile you never thought you’d fall for.

PAIRING | Captain Rex x female Jedi!reader

A/N | look i'm in love with this man, i simply Could Not help myself from falling in love with him, and i felt the need to live vicariously through reader insert fics, so here we are (don't ask me why they sent two generals in place of one, it's for the purpose of the fic). also, the reader is female, and i've decided some details such as former master (OC) home planet, and name (because i despise using y/n). everything else is up to you!

WARNINGS | fluff, angst because this is the umbara arc, SLOW BURN, star wars curses, death (no major characters), blood/gore, suggestive themes. the whole shabang.

STATUS: WIP | TAGLIST | Last Updated: May 13, 2024

──── CHAPTER ONE

SUMMARY | after landing on the umbaran surface, you butt heads with your fellow general—but get along swimmingly with your temporary clone captain.

WORD COUNT | 3.9k

WARNINGS | combat/action, mentions of injury + death, krell being a bitch, reader with a name instead of y/n because i hate it

──── CHAPTER TWO

SUMMARY | The mission continues, and with it, your growing suspicion of Krell’s authoritarian methods. But the troopers relying on you—including Rex—lead you in the right direction: one of unyielding kindness, even when it’s hard.

WORD COUNT | 3.7k

WARNINGS | Combat/action, mentions of injury & death, Krell being a bitch as usual, gender neutral use of the term “sir,” gratuitous use of Mando’a, and one (1) curse word. Also, a Shakespeare reference because I’m a historian & couldn’t help myself.

──── CHAPTER THREE

COMING SOON!

[awkward-tension-art]

Medical Marvel

I’ve had this idea for a series floating in my head for a while, so…consider this a potential preview? Possibly? if anyone wants a more original series?

Clones: Rex, Fives, Echo, Hunter, Wrecker, Tech and Crosshair

Cw: Before order 66, Mostly fluff, some talk of corporate corruption, Padme is a good friend, a single mention of smut for Crosshair, Minors DNI

Not proofread I die like a MAN

Your lover had just returned to Coruscant from a mission in the outer ridges. He came to your science lab to visit you at work when one of your colleagues directed him to your office. Before he entered, he happened to overhear your conversation with Senator Amidala. 

“Athakam?” 

“No, too corporate.” You spoke to Padme through your holocom, “Also they’re still neutral.”

“Kirgalis?” Padme offered another medical company name. 

“No, they’ll raise the price 400 times more than it takes to manufacture.” You responded sounding frustrated. 

“You can’t keep turning down every company,” The senator had a slight laugh to her words, “You have to find someone to help you with this research. If it goes through and the medicine is successful, do you know how wonderful that would be?”

Medicine? Your clone lover didn’t know you were working on a type of medicine. You were performing research on clone health, but he had no idea the main goal was medicine.

“I know Padme…” It sounded like you had your face in your hands, “I just…I want to make it affordable for the clones. Medicine that can slow their aging to a normal rate, that should be affordable. Especially after everything the clones sacrifice for the Republic.”

“You’ll probably have many clones from different battalions confess their love for you because of this. You know that right?” Padme teased you.

“And all I want is the love of one specific clone,” You spoke about him so sweetly, “I hope he returns from the outer rims soon. I’ll surprise him with the research. Tell him how this medicine works. How he can live a normal life for a normal length of time.”

“Will you tell him how you named it after him?”

“Soon.” You sighed, “I need to get back to work, Padme. Thank you for letting me brainstorm.”

Rex

Will fall in love all over again

He's going to try and pretend he didn't hear the conversation, but clones can't lie for shit so you know something is up

That's when he will admit he overheard the conversation

"Mesh'la...What I heard...is it real?"

When you confirm it for him, he's going to pull you into a very deep and very passionate kiss

Normally he's more professional of course, but right now, he's so overcome with emotion

A medicine that gives him and his brothers a chance at a normal life after the war?

It's the greatest gift anyone could ever give him

He knows realistically that there is still an entire process of getting the medicine approved, talking with medical companies, manufacturing and a lot of moving parts that he has no idea goes into medical research

He's going to support you in every way possible, all while falling more and more in love with you

Fives

May genuinely open the door and want to marry you then and there

You, the love of his life, have researched and found a way to make medicine to slow a clones aging to a normal rate?

and you want it affordable for all of his brothers?

Fives is going to worship the ground where you walk

As soon as that door is open his lips are ON you

He doesn't even pretend like he doesn't know, he'll be admitting it between kisses

"Mesh'la...Cyare...I love you...I love you so much!"

He's not going to care if your fellow scientists see him damn near making out with you

He may be a bit optimistic on the whole...making medicine process. He'll think it'll be an easy process so you'll have to remind him that patience is important

Even if it takes a couple years, he's so proud and so happy

Echo (Clone Force 99)

More reserved in his happiness and his affection

He'll knock on the door, and pretend he didn't hear anything

He doesn't want to ruin the surprise! He knows you'll share with him everything when your more confident it'll work out

He is WELL AWARE what scientific advancement without reigns can do, so he's actually very relieved that your vetting your potential manufacturers

However, he is beyond happy that your so focused on helping the clones

Echo actually does well pretending to be surprised when you finally tell him about your research and the medicine your making

this man will actually die when you also tell him you've named your research after him

He'll be so honored, and just kiss you all over your face

Also great at keeping the research secret if you can't go public with it yet

Hunter

Like Echo, he hides the fact that he overheard

He doesn't act an differently, I'd say

He knows you want to surprise him, so he's going to wait, and pretend like you caught him off guard when you tell him everything

But you bet your ass he's fulling in love with you about this

He's damn near hypnotized by your compassion for clones

Plus? the idea of living a much longer life with you? the both of you being together to grow old at the same time?

His heart is RACING at the idea

However, unlike the others, I think Hunter knows to a degree that there is some level of danger to you once you go public with your research and medicine

Kamino doesn't like it when someone gives agency to their 'property'

Someone managed to find a way to override clones sped-up aging? Yea, Kamino may not be happy about that.

So...Hunter may actually become somewhat more protective once you tell him

Wrecker

He's going to ask what you were talking about, won't hide the fact that he heard

He's curious! he might not entirely 'get' the science of it, but he gets the gist of whats going on.

You researched and found a way to slow clones aging so they can live a normal life span? Yea he understands!

and he's so SO happy!

Ecstatic completely

Will go to the rest of his brothers and tell them the amazing news!

He's proud! and so in love!

Because of you, he and the rest of his brothers now have the choice to live their lives however they wish at the end of the war

They can have families, learn a trade, become something other than soldiers

and so can he! with you! you gave him more time with you!

Tech

You think he doesn't know what you've been researching?

He most likely already had a vague idea, even if you tried to hide it

While he is absolutely so proud and so happy, he's going to step in and help you now

He'll do some research on potential manufacturers, vet medical companies and find ways to make this medicine affordable for all clones

Tech is going to be very interested in the creation process

How did you begin this research? what components have you used? Where did you get the idea for such a protocol?

He'll listen to you talk about your research for hours

It doesn't even matter its for the clones! He's just so insanely proud and in love with you over such an achievement

The fact that this medicine can allow him to live a long life with you? someone who he adores? Thats a plus

Crosshair (Warning, there is slight smut)

He's not going to dance around the topic. He'll just tell you straight up that he heard the entire call

That doesn't mean he isn't happy! he is!

But now he needs to actually think about the future. what he wants besides being a soldier.

I mean, your research and medicine is giving him and his brothers an incredible chance at normal lives after the war!

It's going to hit him that 'yes, I can have a life that doesn't revolve around the battlefield' and that honestly scares him

But, despite that, he's going to grab your hand and keep you in your office so he could...show you how happy he is that you've done such an incredible thing

He knows you've worked hard, and to find out its for him and his brothers? it makes his heart flutter

and knowing you've named your research after him as well? Will fluster him

But, like Hunter, he knows that by being so selfless, you're a target for greedy companies that want your research

He knows how cutthroat competition for profits among corporations can be

Crosshair might actually step away from Clone Force 99 in order to act as a bodyguard for you

at least until he knows that you'll be safe. He loves you too much to be careless with your safety

[a-single-tulip]

Time After Time

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x GN!Reader

Summary: You're having a bad day and Fives is there to comfort you with cuddles, and words of encouragement on how it's okay to cry and have bad days, even if you don't necessarily understand why you might be feeling bad in the first place.

Warnings: Established relationship, L Bombs, Hurt/Comfort, Reader is implied to be depressed but it isn't explicitly stated in the fic, no use of pronouns or Y/N

Word Count: 1,540

A/N: Oooo wee, has it been a REALLY long time since I've posted a fic...like, literally the last time was all the way back in November. Yiiikes. I'll be honest with y'all, this fic is very much a love letter to how it's okay to cry, and it's okay to not always understand your emotions 100% of the time, and Fives is here to help y'all understand that. Love you guys, keep staying cool ❤

Tag List: @wizardofrozz, @523rdrebel, @anxiouspineapple99, @starrylothcat (hmu if you wanna be added to my tag list for any future works!)

[clone-anon-after-dark]

Can I request a Fives x fem!reader where Fives is pursuing the reader, a master thief, across Coruscant after she stole Jedi artefacts from the temple?

Thrill

Fives x F!Reader

Word Count: 1102

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI, dom Fives vibes, unprotected PiV sex, fingering, dirty talk, little bit of aftercare

A/N: You and Fives share an attraction and have met before. Reader steals but not compulsively. If anyone would like a m!reader version of this or my take on an aspec reader version of this, let me know!

You liked hanging out at 79's after a long day. Work was tiring, but you could always count on some troopers to distract you before you headed home alone. You didn't just bring anyone home, but you loved dancing with the handsome men and laughing at their antics. You met Fives when he joined the 501st and asked him to dance with you the first time after he made ARC trooper. A soft grin flashed every time he saw you, but you were careful not to get too close even though your heart wanted more.

Today, though, you were running through the streets of Coruscant and trying to get home following a route that always allowed for escape. You felt the kyber crystal through the fabric of your pocket. All this would be for nothing if you lost it along the way. The point was to get home safely with the crystal. Stealing from the Jedi temple was no easy feat, but you'd successfully stolen other artifacts before.

Troopers shouted behind you as you ran. You ducked behind another corner and behind a small apartment. You pulled away a crate covering a small doorway that led to the tunnels. Once there, you headed home. You always lost them at this spot. More troopers shouted above, trying to coordinate their search, and you could swear you recognized some of the voices as the same men you knew from the 501st. You kept running. It didn't matter. You turned another corner and climbed down a level before opening a hatch and reappearing on the street below. You took a breath, but Fives appeared.

"Fives! Uh, hi!" Playing it cool was not the easiest thing to do after running that long.

"Fancy meeting you here," he said. He took in your form and swallowed. His eyebrows narrowed as he noticed you were out of breath and appeared from the very tunnel his brothers were searching.

"Yes, and uh, why are you here? You looking for my apartment? Trying to visit?" Fives had never been to your home, but you knew he wanted to. Wanted to come home with you. Maybe playing this off like he was looking for you for other reasons would work.

"No," he replied, walking up to you and taking your hand. Your pulse was racing. "Someone keeps stealing artifacts from the Jedi temple. We're out looking for the thief."

"Interesting. Why would someone do that?"

Fives held your gaze and put his blaster away. His careful hands searched the pockets of your poncho.

"You hiding anything from me, cyar'ika?"

"I think you know the answer to that." You were caught. He found the crystal, but instead of taking it, it left it in your pocket.

"Someone's been naughty. Whatever am I going to do with you?"

Your heart started racing again for another reason and before you could stop yourself, you kissed him. He backed you to the door of your home, one hand resting on either side of you. You punched in the code without looking and nearly felt backwards into the main room. The door closed behind him and he started taking his armor off.

"Is this... I want you," was all he could say between kisses. You grinned and nodded as you led him to the bedroom, a trail of armor left down the hallway. You carefully took your poncho off so as not to knock the crystal out of it. Fives helped you out of your clothes and cupped your face. He placed little kisses all over it as if you were the most precious being he'd ever seen.

"I've wanted you ever since that first dance," he said. "Promise me this isn't just you trying to get out of trouble."

"It's not," you said before kissing his palm.

You both got on the bed, Fives hovering over your and lavishing your mouth and breasts with kisses. Each nibble on your sensitive skin pulled a moan from you. You only got louder when his hand made its way to your folds. He pressed two fingers inside you and gathered some slick to trace circles around your clit. You reached for his length but he stopped you.

"It's been a long time," he admitted. "Better to hold off for now. Let me just enjoy you."

He continued to draw moans from you and playfully grinned as your hips bucked into his hand. Between kisses he stole a look around the room and noticed all four of the other artifacts they'd been looking for.

"You have been a bad girl," he growled. Your eyes followed his, realizing what he had found. You looked back at him to find his expression stern, but eyes filled with desire. You felt heat overtake you as you came.

"You like that?" he asked.

"Uh huh," you squeaked.

"You ready for more?"

You nodded.

"Use your words, mesh'la."

"Yes."

He kissed you again and pinned your wrists above your head. Fives was never forceful, but you could feel the strength behind it. You let out a sinful moan as his cock entered you. He wiggled his hips a little as he filled you before fucking you at a steady pace.

"Good girl," he said, still holding your wrists in place. "You take me so well. My good little thief."

The air was a mix of moans, panting, and skin meeting skin. Your body wholly surrendered to him and you came again. Fives watched and licked his lips at the sight, but almost immediately he came buried inside you.

He let go of your wrists and laid next to you, holding you close. You weren't sure how long it took, but you were both able to catch your breath. You kissed his chest and inhaled his scent. It reminded you of those times you got a little sweaty on the dance floor. Just a little heat between you drawing you in for something more. You kissed him passionately and rested your face in the crook of his neck. Eventually, he broke the silence.

"I guess I should comm the team. They're probably still out looking for you. Or looking for me."

"What are you going to do?" you asked.

"We could just return these things to Master Yoda. Say I found them behind a crate somewhere so no one is implicated. Why do you steal these things anyway? Do you need money?"

"No, I don't sell them," you replied. "I just like the challenge and the chase."

"Perhaps I can provide you some challenge and chase instead then," he offered with a wink.

"I think I'd like that."

Tagging: @dukeoftheblackstar @staycalmandhugaclone

[toska-writes]

This was a little idea that I came up with for some reason but yeah.

“Ad’ika”

Summary: Fives have been patronizing you for the last couple of rotations with a word in a language you don’t understand. Now you’ll stop at nothing to figure out his little game.

Paring: Fives x GN Padawan Reader (PLATONIC WOOO)

Warning: none :) please try to enjoy

Word count: 902 This was meant to be a drabble but long then I expected, but shorter than my normal fics… if that makes sense

Notes: giving myself a pat on the back for actually proof reading something. Thank you thank you *bows*



Fives laughed as he practically draped himself over Echo's shoulder, he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Just tell me Fives!" You shot your hands up, running them quickly through your hair. Fives for the past few rotations started calling you a name in a language you didn't understand which was very unfair.

Ad'ika.

It has been haunting you since Fives started.

You knew some words in Mando'a but this was not one of the limited few.

A smirk flashed across his face again. Echo rolled his eyes at his batch mates actions knowing it was stupid to peeve off a Jedi.

"Echo come on." You tried him for the 100th time. "At least tell me it's nothing bad."

"It's nothing bad." Echo simply said looking from you to Fives.

"Then tell me!"

Fives only shook his head before looking down to his comms. "Maybe after training, which your going to be late for." He shot a finger up silencing your next thought, then jabbed towards the door the doors.

You took one last desperate glance at Echo which he only replayed with a shrug. Heavy footsteps stomped through the halls and out of their ear shot.

"Are you ever going to end their misery? I'm sure by tomorrow they're going to be threatening you with that lightsaber." Echo glance back at Fives as he now decided to get up once you were gone.

"Maybe." Fives said with a laugh. "I'm already in too deep, I said it on accident once but it's kinda growing on me." He bumped shoulders with Echo as they walked out into the halls.

"Besides it's making all the vodes very happy to have just a little fun keeping a small secret."

"And to be calling them that." Echo added as they both turned without thought to the barracks.

You dodged out of the way as you felt the air of the punch that Anakin sent right against your cheek.

The small training room aboard the Dominator wasn’t ideal but between missions it was perfect, or even to clear up some thoughts.

Anakin sent another kick that barely missed grazing your side. You could hear the load inhale that came from the Captain watching

“Y/N what’s going on today?” He asked in between punches and kicks. “Your distracted- I can barely hear myself think.”

With a grunt you sent another kick towards your master which he easily blocked. “Fives is driving me up the wall.” You said with a breath.

“What’s new? Welcome to my life.” Rex added from the wall he leaned on. “What did he do this time.” Anakin finished for him, bringing the sparing to a stop.

“He keeps saying something to me that I don’t understand. Every cycle I hear it but he won’t tell me, none of the men will.” You slide down the wall to the dusty mat that covered most of the floor.

Rex let out a small chuckle before Anakin joined you on the floor. “Well what is it?”

You leaned your head on the wall before answering. “Ad’ika.” The new language felt weird on your tongue. “Do you know it master?”

Anakin glanced at Rex before looking back at you. “Fives is calling you that?” He asked with a smile growing on his face.

“Yes! All the men are. Do you know what it means?” Your eyes lightened up looking form Anakin and Rex. Maybe finally you’ll get answers.

Anakin along with Rex started to laugh, clearly something about your misery was amusing to them.

“Well since Fives asked me not too I’m sure the general would be perfect to let you in on their little game.” Rex put his hands up in surrender as he joined the pair on the ground.

Rex watched as Anakin leaned over and whispered in your ear. You snapped your head towards his direction with a questioning look on your face.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m more than sure Y/N.” Anakin said with a smirk. “I’ve definitely heard Rex say it before.”

It made perfect sense now.

An old mission where you and Fives were in a Saloon when someone asked who you were- it rolled right off his tongue just as easy as his name did when introducing himself.

In the dead of night after a hard campaign- the comforting words seemed to wrap you up like a blanket.

All the times Fives has called you that seemed to be seen clearly through the light of day. They all came flooding back to you.

It seemed like a trance when you got up and walked away from the training room. Your brain didn’t really know where you were going but your legs did.

Around a corner, then another. You practically bumped into Fives as you turned into another corridor, the path to the barracks seemed engraved into your mind at this point.

“How was training Ad-“ Before he could finish his sentence you wrapped your arms in a rib crushing hug around Fives.

Caught off guard it took him a second to really register what was going on. “Is everything all right Y/N?”

You nodded into his chest, staying in his warm embrace for a moment longer before you said. “I like that name. Please don’t ever stop using it.”

You felt Fives give a little chuckle before he said. “I knew you would.

Ad’ika: Little one/ Son/ Daughter

_____________________________________

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu

[sinfulsalutations]

Omg Nour happy 500 followers!!! You deserve every single one!!! (Also pls ignore that I accidentally unfollowed you and had to refollow you oops).

Can I please request prompt #13 + Fives for your celebration?

Again, congratulations!! I'm so happy for you! 💜💜💜

➼ ɴᴏᴜʀ'ꜱ 500 ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

⋆ ★ ᴛʏꜱᴍ ꜱᴀᴍ!!! ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ꜱᴏ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ☺️ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ꜱᴍᴜᴛᴛʏ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇ ɪ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ɪɴ, ɴᴊ, 20 ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇꜱ 😆

➼ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ ☆ “ɪ’ᴍ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ᴍᴀʀʀʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ”

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ꜰɪᴠᴇꜱ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ʙʟᴏᴡᴊᴏʙ, ᴄᴜᴍ ꜱᴡᴀʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ, ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ɪᴅᴋ ʜᴏᴡ ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ???? ɪ’ᴠᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴀ ᴅᴏᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ???), ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴀᴛ ꜱᴜʙ ꜰɪᴠᴇꜱ

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 553

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

“Shit, baby…” Fives grunts through his teeth. You gaze through your eyelashes, flatten your tongue once, twice over his cock, and his face, already tilted up, ascends to the ceiling with a barely contained groan. “Baby, baby…”

You hum, innocently and sweetly even when your mouth is filled with him. You’re sure he can feel the vibrations of your voice through his whole body with the way his chest rises and falls; a shiver must have run through him at that moment. Fives heaves and finishes his sentence inadvertently.

“...Fuck, you’re so good.”

You pull off slowly, smacking your lips as you disconnect and giggle.

“I am?” You ask, tilting your head slowly.

Fives looks down again, laughing breathlessly. A hand runs over his face, raking back the messy hair that’s obstructing his view of his favorite girl. The twinkle in them is so incredibly heavenly, you want to just take a picture and hang it up for everyone to see, for everyone to admire your beautiful boyfriend.

“Do I really have to say it for you to be satisfied?” He jokes, and you giggle again, taking his still throbbing dick in your hand again. His laugh is interrupted, a weak choke leaving instead, as you run your hand up and down, spreading the slick saliva from your mouth over and over until you let your thumb press to his tip firmly. Fives’ head falls back again. You bite your lip.

“How you’re feeling, hun?”

“Good,” He responds as nonchalantly as he can muster, swallowing harshly. “Fuck, really good. C’mon baby, finish me off now.”

You click your tongue, slowly circling your tongue over his head again, eyes fluttering close the further you focus.

“Think you’re forgetting a word there,” You slur your words, but they still manage to be clear enough for him to understand. He grunts.

“Seriously?” He whines, and you manage to discreetly roll your eyes as his chin is still tilted up high enough for him not to see.

“I won’t make you come until you say it,” You state, firmly pumping his length again.

“F-Fine,” He says, looking down at you again. The twinkle’s been replaced; you know there’s still a raw adoration in there, but now he looks absolutely ravished, incredibly desperate for a release only you can give him. “Please, baby. Please? Make me come. Let me come…”

You smirk, leaning down again and taking his entire cock back in your mouth in one movement. The groan that leaves him is sinfully toe-curling.

As he nears his release fast and hard, you feel him try to pull off you.

“C’mon, y-you don’t have to–” He insists, and you don’t even have to think over his words to know what he’s talking about. In response, you only take him in further and suck.

That does it for him. He’s coming all over your tongue, unable to control himself anymore and you lap it up greedily, swallowing every bit until he’s starving again.

His eyes wide, he grips your hair harshly and brings you up to his lips, shoving his tongue into you, desperate to feel his come in your mouth.

And when you finally push his chest to get him off of you, all he can do is smile.

“I’m gonna marry you just for doing that.”

tags: @starstofillmydream @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @secondaryrealm @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @dukeoftheblackstar @meshlaxbunny @kimiheartblade @followthepurrgil @wolffegirlsunite @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @aconstructofamind