#clone wars reader insert

[emperor-palpaminty]

kiss prompt 20 with Wolffe. This prompt was MADE for him. Like reader smothers him with affection and kisses and he just MELTS into reader. I’m currently crying after thinking about a scenario I made myself

SOMEONE GIVE THIS MAN A KISS. GN reader with Wolfe! Just all around softness and cuddling and hanging out

20- Kiss on a scar

Kisses found here!

"Darling."

The weight shifted into him, and there was a soft sound from his cuddling partner. The couch was soft and warm and comfortable, so he couldn't blame them for their reluctance to move. "Darling, we need to get up."

"No." They mumbled. The word was caught in the fabric of his shirt, soft and cottony against him, and they snuggled further into their commander. Even now he smelled the detergent from days ago. It was floral and light, but the scent settled lazily around them. Not that the rest wasn't deserved- they had both worked hard and were finally taking the break.

Still, Wolffe was used to routine. "Darling," He said again, a bit more firmly. "We need to-"

A whine interrupted. Arms wrapped around his neck sweetly, and he felt the face he adored press into his cheek. Lips pressed the jagged line of flesh on his face, gently, with an affection that broke him. "We need to stay together. And cuddle."

"It's good to move."

"It's good to rest, too." They pecked his face again, before nestling against him. They threw one leg over his hip, trapping him, and pressed their lips to his cheek again.

He stilled. Thoughts of leaving vanished as they fell asleep again, breathing becoming soft and steady. The kisses stopped, but those soft lips stayed against his face. Wolffe paused breathing for a moment. Perhaps if he inhaled too deeply, they would wake up-

They shifted. Wolffe's head darted down to them, and eventually their creased brows eased. He sighed and laid back, fully, hands resting on the warmth of their back.

Routines could wait. This, however- it could not.

[deejadabbles]

The Handmaiden's Fox (Fox x Fem!Reader) Chapter One

Summary: You have been by Amidala’s side since she was the queen of Naboo and no one will shake you from your duty. Not even a handsome, red-clad commander who seems quite taken with the friendship you’ve forged. Commander Fox x fem handmaiden reader. Slow burn, friends to lovers. Rating: Mature A.N: So for those of you who don't know: all of Padmé's handmaidens take new names ending with " é " as a sign of loyalty to her. I never mentioned the reader's é name as I want that to be personal, but I wanted to mention it since it comes into play in the story <3

I've also made a playlist for this series, in case you want to set the mood with tunes. Word Count: 6,284 Warnings: just some blaster fire and canon typical danger Masterlist /// Tag List Sign Up  /// AO3

Prologue /// Part One /// Part Two /// [part three coming soon]

Chapter one

The roaring of the senate chamber was deafening. You had thought that years of exposure to it would harden your hearing, but no petty debate between dozens of senators could have prepared you for the screaming of the last two weeks. Two weeks. Not even fourteen rotations had passed since the battle of Geonosis. Since the start of the Clone War. Every day more and more planets were leaving to join the Separatists, and the destruction of chaos was spreading fast. So, you supposed it was little surprise that every single debate in the Senate was automatically a vibrant verbal brawl now.

And here you had hoped that fewer senators in the hall would lessen the noise.

As always, you stood sentry behind your lady, your Amidala, who had fought in the first battle of the war. Who had been thrown into a pit for execution, and blasted her way out like a warrior. Now, she was in a whole new type of pit, instead of fighting starved beasts, she was now fighting numerous senators who seemed content to throw out any shred of decency in favor of war.

You watched as the senator from Corellia made their argument, that they needed to cut off relief aid funding in favor of the cloning facilities. Just two weeks in, and the need for more clones was already apparent. In the seat in front of you, you watched Padmé stiffen at the way the other senator implied that ‘lesser’ worlds needed to help themselves before asking the Republic for aid. She was raring for a fight, and fight she did.

You never got tired of watching Padmé put someone in place with a few carefully chosen words. Never tired of the way she fought for others…even if it didn’t always work in the end.

“Motion passed,” came Chancellor Palpatine’s voice. 

You closed your eyes with the smallest sigh, knowing that even more suffering would come to pass now. At least this was only a motion to start talking about cutting funding. Padmé would do everything she could to make sure the next bill was as fair as she could manage.

When the sound that indicated the end of the day’s session rang through the chamber, you almost slumped with relief. You didn’t of course, no handmaiden ever lost her composure under the watchful eye of the senate. But you were glad that it was finally time to return to your lady’s office. A headache was coming on strong.

Padmé had more grace than to storm out of the chamber like a woman on a war path, but your trained eye could see she was exactly that as she walked calmly out into the hall. She didn’t try to hide her expressions nearly as much now, her queen persona having faded quite a lot in the passing years, but she still knew the value of looking calm to her colleagues.

The hallways were a buzz with activity, aids and senators alike calling for associates and running here and there for their next task. That, and it was filled with the sounds of armored boots. 

As you and the Naboo guards followed Padmé, several groups of the new clone trooper units passed by. All of it was still a little disconcerting, having such heavily armed men tramping around. It brought back memories, wounds a decade old still felt fresh as the sound of marching feet reminded you of droids taking over Theed. 

You were proud that you had fought for your home world all those years ago, fought the Trade Federation (who now were now ironically a head of the Separatists) and took back your planet and your people. But that didn’t mean the battle was easy. 

And these men, these soldiers bred for war, would see far worse in the coming days. 

It might be easy, to look at their identical armor and expressionless helmets, and see them as something akin to droids, but they weren’t. They were flesh and blood under all that plastoid and, while their new and overbearing presence may be unsettling for now, you refused to dehumanize them in your mind like that.

A call of your name drew your attention back to the present, just as Padmé reached the door to her office.

“I have that meeting with Bail and Mon in about an hour, but there’s still so much work to do,” she sighed as the door closed behind her, “I hate to ask, but-”

“I will stay here and file anything you need, my lady.” You had anticipated this, things were still adjusting to the new war-time normal, and Padmé’s workload was more overwhelming than ever, and that was saying something. To ensure she got any rest at all right now, you had to do much of the paperwork she would see to personally while the committees and meeting ate up her time.

She sighed with relief and gave you that small smile that always held her deepest affection. “Thank you, I’ll get a head start on it for you at least, since I still need you to research the Chabrill and Cordia incidences.”

And so the two of you got to work. Your first tasks were easy enough, you’d lost count of the number of info packs you’d written for her on import events over the years, and they were done by the time she and the guards left for that meeting. You stayed behind in the office, her atmosphere controlls set to play your favorite soothing sounds for white noise as you worked.

Padmé trusted you to answer most of her mail and requests the way she would and save the dire ones for her personal attention. You polished up and filed her pending motions, and a dozen other mundane things that made you want to pull your hair out despite your never waving composure. God, you hated politics sometimes. More or less than paperwork, you couldn’t say, but it was always a close running between the two.

You were just answering a far too flirtatious message from Senator Dobo and almost, almost, missed the way the sound of armored feet got louder just outside the door.

Eyes flashed up to the entrance, just as it was slid open without so much as a knock.

Three clone troopers came charging in as you jumped to your feet behind the desk.

“What is the meaning of this?” you demanded in a cool tone, hands slipping into the sleeves of your tunic in a neutral dignified posture. “Troopers are not permitted in here without permission.”

“Are you Senator Amidala?” The one in front asked, tone clipped, not the monotone you had heard a few clones use over the past weeks.

“I am her aid, and I demand you answer my question, trooper.” 

You saw it, the barely-there way his shoulders stiffen, before he clasped his hands behind his back, and feel the eyes behind the visor bore into you.

“We need to see the senator immediately, we’ve received intelligence that there’s been a threat made on her life.”

…Oh, was that all? You almost laughed. Though you did appreciate the man’s obvious dedication to his job.

Your eyes took in the freshly painted red on the white armor, having heard that the higher ranks of clones had adopted the marking to indicate their legions and ranks. This one had the vaguely sword-like symbol of Coruscant emblazoned boldly on his chest, while the two at attention behind him had simpler red markings.

“You must be the new Commander of the Coruscant Guard,” you said.

“I am.”

“Then, Commander, you will soon learn that there is always a threat made on Senator Amidala’s life. It comes hand in hand with her tendency to put dangerous people in their place.”

Again your keen eyes picked up on the tightening of his arms, so subtle under the armor even you almost missed it. One talent you’d learned in the Naboo royal court, was reading body language, especially the body language of those who always hid theirs. It was an even more useful skill in your new position, though you’d never thought to use it on these men. The clone was either shocked at the candor in which you spoke about the danger, or annoyed with how you were talking to him. Maybe both.

“All the same,” his tone was measured now, but you heard the hint of gritted teeth behind the polite words, “I must speak with Amidala about the threat. Personally.”

Had you not been schooling your expression like you always did here, you would have raised your eyebrows at him. You weren’t annoyed, not really, in fact, you found the way he stood his ground almost admirable. He cared about his job but…maybe it was more than that. Maybe he cared about the safety of others on a more personal level. You weren’t sure yet, but, the commander had made his way onto your list of potential allies, one you may pursue in the future.

If he was annoyed with you, there was no need to vex him further. You gave a small, respectful incline of your head. “Very well, Commander. I will escort you to her.” 

He did not thank you as you made your way around the desk and walked past them through the door, but he fell in step behind you without protest. You sent a quick message from your small wrist unit, using a code phrase that would warn Padmé to be alert.

You could practically feel the tension in the troopers behind you and normally, you would ignore it, but, if you were being honest, you liked the opportunity this gave you. To learn more about the men who were now protecting the senate.

“I did not catch your name, Commander,” you said, keeping your eyes forward.

“CC-1010.”

You actually faltered a little at that, “Excuse me?” This time you actually looked over your shoulder at him, and let your brow lift up in question. You didn’t miss the way his body shifted under your gaze.

“It’s the only name they gave me, ma’am.” His tone was just a notch lower now, another thing of note.

A number. A number, like a droid. 

That didn’t sit well with you, not one bit, but, you supposed it was none of your business, for now. “I see,” you said after a moment, then turned your eyes back in front of you. “Well, Commander, if you ever decide to take another name, please do let me know.”

“I didn’t get your name either.”

You almost smiled at that, and gave him the name you had taken when you took on the role of handmaiden all those years ago. Very few people here on Coruscant knew your birth name, and none used it. The commander would have to become an extremely close friend to ever earn that honor.

A few minutes of silent walking passed before you finally reached Bail Organa’s office. To his credit, CC-10- ugh, no, you were not calling him that, even in your head, unless he asked you to. To his credit, the Commander listened to your advice when you asked him to ring the doorbell before barging in on a private meeting.

You graciously gave an apology for the interruption when the four of you entered, then swept out of the way as the clones gave their report to Amidala. Admittedly, the threat was not quite as laughable as you had first thought it was, but it was hardly the worst one Padmé had faced, even just in the last year. Apparently a small-time thug in the mid-rim thought he might ingratiate himself to the Trade Federation by ‘taking out’ their most hated senator. He couldn’t afford the prices of the Bounty Hunter Guild and  so, had posted smaller sums of money for anyone to take should they manage the job.

Considering Padmé had survived actual guild level assassin’s for a few years now, you weren’t that concerned.

Still, you admired the troops doing their jobs to the letter, and your lady accepted the Commander’s advice of a personal Corrie Guard escort as a precaution for the coming days. It was hardly needed. You, Dormé, and Captain Typho had always been more than enough security, but, it made the clone Commander feel better, than it couldn’t hurt.

All in all the conversation was somewhat short, and soon enough the man took his leave, ordering the other two clones to stay behind with Amidala. After that, Bail, who was amused at Padmé collecting yet another enemy, said that the rest of their meeting could wait until next time. The senators bade each other a good night and you followed your lady out of the office along with the new red painted guards.

Neither of them had said a word this whole time, but you supposed that was their right. That didn’t stop Typho from giving the clones a run down of how his guard details worked, and how he wanted the clones to integrate into that routine. 

As they talked, Padmé fell back to meet your steps. “So, you’ve met the Commander of the new Coruscant Guard,” she started, tone quiet so no one would overhear you. “Did you talk to him at all while escorting him?”

“A little, he wasn’t much of a conversationalist.”

“And? What’s your opinion of him so far? Besides his lack of extroverted tendencies, that is.”

You felt the urge to bite your lip. Overall, you hadn’t spent enough time to get a decent read on him yet, but it was still odd how much of a blank slate you were drawing when thinking up your opinion. Maybe it was his armor and helmet, how not seeing his face made it harder to gauge his reactions and thoughts. Or maybe, he was almost as good as the handmaidens when it came to hiding himself through stoicism. 

The fact that you couldn’t decide which was more likely annoyed you a little.

“Honestly? I’m…not sure what I think of him yet.”

That sentiment continued over the following week. You hadn’t expected to see the man in red quite so soon, after scheduling shifts for his men to rotate in and out of Padmé’s service, you had assumed he would move on to other tasks and concerns. 

So, imagine your surprise when you found yourself once again in the Commander’s company without Padmé. 

Once again you were in her office, working on her latest project while she and Dormé attended a charity dinner, when there was a chime indicating someone at the door. Your eyes needed a break in any case, so you pulled yourself out of your favorite armchair and rubbed your eyes as you walked to the door. Then, you felt your interest piqued when you checked the security cam and saw that red and white helmet staring expectantly at the lens. Well, at least he knocked this time. He should be glad of that for his own sake, as you were in no mood for rudeness tonight.

After straightening your back and putting on that stoic mask, you opened the door. “Good evening, Commander, what may I help you with?”

“May I speak with the Senator?”

“I’m afraid she’s out for the evening, but I should be able to help with whatever you need.”

“Very well,” He reached behind him and slid a datapad from a pouch on his belt. “I’ve reviewed the Senator’s security details based on reports my men have given me. I have some changes I’d like to make.”

A sarcastic, ‘oh you do, do you?’ almost left your mouth, but you held it in, you really must be well past tired now. He held the data pad out to you and you began reading it before you even took it in hand.

“Please, come in,” you offered with a wave, “take a seat if you’d like.” You had a feeling this was going to be a long back and forth.

He said a polite “Thank you, ma’am,” as he stepped in, but did not even glance at the various chairs in the room, opting instead to stand at attention in the center of it all.

“She won’t agree to this,” you concluded after a moment, not having even scrolled halfway through the document. “She would be appalled by the mere idea of you searching her staff’s rooms without probable cause.” Another tap on the screen. “She’d also deny the proposal to lengthen guard shifts, she tries to keep them down to 7 hours to avoid stress and,” you almost laughed at this one, “and she has never allowed guards to stay in her room at night.”

“My men would never do anything inappropriate-”

“I did not say they would,” you assured with a raise of your hand, “Amidala doesn’t even let handmaidens such as myself stay in her room anymore, it’s nothing personal.” The last thing anyone needed was a corrie guard to shoot Skywalker the next time he thought he was sneaking into her room unnoticed.

The clone was silent for just a moment, his unreadable visor trained on you as you stared back. “Are there any of my suggestions that meet your approval?”

You didn’t know if he meant to say ‘her’ and mentioned you by mistake, or if he thought that you were making it your personal mission to thwart him at every turn. He meant well, you knew that, but you could picture exactly how the conversation would go if you gave this over for her to review, and you respected his time too much to waste it.

“How about this, Commander, would you allow me to tweak these suggestions into ones my lady will consider? I will try my best to keep the heart of them intact for you.”

He shifted on his feet a little, before clasping his hands behind his back. A faint crackle of his vocator said that he might have been holding in a sigh. “I suppose that’s an agreeable compromise.”

A part of you had hoped for a thank you, after all, you were taking time out of your already heavy workload to help, but you supposed the polite nod of his helmet would do. You knew you wouldn’t be able to get comfortable in your oversized chair with him standing there like a tall armored gargoyle, so instead you sat at Padmé’s desk and began typing.

Looking back, you probably should have read the whole proposal through the first time, if you had, the last bit of it wouldn't have come as such a shock.

“I’m a subject of one of your new plans?” you asked, looking up at him and allowing just a sprinkle of incredulity onto your expression.

“Yes.”

“Care to explain why I need a clone guard of my own?”

A slight roll of his shoulders, arms still behind his back. “I researched you. You’ve been in the Senator’s employ since before she came here.”

“I have.”

“And you don’t live in the senatorial apartments like the other staff. You live alone.”

“I do.”

He was silent, which only made your annoyance flare.

“And?” it came out far more snapping than you’d meant it to, and immediately you reeled the annoyance back in. Then, much more kindly, you added, “Please, Commander, speak your mind with me.”

At that, you noticed his shoulders actually lower just a bit, a controlled version of relaxing. “Isn’t it obvious? Your close relationship with the Senator makes you a target. If any of these thugs realized how close you are to her, they’d use you to get to her. I’ll have one of my troops escort you home every night and stand guard at your apartment to ensure your safety.”

Well, wasn’t that sweet. 

In truth, his suggestion actually took you by surprise. You hadn’t thought much about what living alone for the first time in a decade might mean. The condo was a new gift from Padmé, a token of her ‘thanks’ for all your years of service, a chance to have something of your own since you had lived with her since the day you stepped foot in her palace. In truth, you knew it was a peace offering, she had to change so much of her life to accommodate that tempestuous young Jedi of hers now. 

It didn’t matter that you knew the basics of their relationship, Padmé still couldn’t hold her handmaidens as close as she once did, or the secret of her marriage might be jeopardized. So she offered you your own space, your own home while she had to push you away. It had hurt, it still hurt a little, but you understood, and loved her too much to complain. She loved that Jedi and, if putting space between you and her was what she needed, then you would give it to her without question.

You hadn’t even had time to think about what living away from her might mean regarding safety.

“I’m very impressed with your work, Commander,” you admitted eventually. “You obviously take your role to heart and Amidala herself would appreciate your thoroughness. But, I promise you, there isn’t any need to waste one of your men on me. I can take care of myself.”

“I disagree.”

The annoyance came back with a vengeance- how dare he assume that-!

“Disagree about there not being a need, ma’am,” he quickly amended, and you realized your anger must have flashed across your face. “I don’t know what your personal training has been like, but all the same, my men are trained to protect and serve. Let them do their jobs.”

You allowed yourself a calming sigh. For all his stiffness, he really was trying to be polite and you supposed you could tap into your inner politician for him. 

“Please take a seat, Commander, I see no reason for you not to be comfortable while we hash this out.”

It had been nearly a month since he, the head of the Coruscant Guard, warned that senator about the threat on her life, and the way she made no changes to her daily routine was, frankly, starting to piss him off.

“What do you mean she’s still going to attend that rally!?” He hadn’t meant to yell, especially at the brother who had just gotten off a twelve hour watch shift outside Amidala’s residence. But damn it, was he annoyed.

At least the trooper didn’t seem shaken, “Sir, I expressed my concern, but she just reiterated that-”

“That ‘no one is going to scare me into hiding’ right right, so she’s said,” the Commander finished, having heard that same line several times from the woman- and her bossy little handmaiden, over the last month. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, mind wandering over the dozens of security weaknesses this rally was sure to have. Why was it so damn important that she make some speech at a gathering for- kriff, he didn’t even remember what the topic was. Not that it mattered in the end. He was quickly realizing that this willful senator was going to give him endless migraines.

“Perhaps, assigning more troops to her will help, sir?” the shinny offered, obviously trying his best to help.

“No, we’re already stretched thin, even if I hadn’t made up the schedules for the week.” At least he managed to sound less grumpy that time, it wasn’t the kid’s fault that his new job wasn’t what he’d expected. He thought he’d be out putting blaster holes in droids right now, freeing innocent civies from seppie control in a blaze of glory. Instead, he was bowing to the simpering pleas of the chancellor and corralling feral senators like cadets in their first shooting lesson.

Alright, maybe ‘feral’ was a little harsh for Amidala, and her bossy aid. Truthfully, despite their tendencies to brush off his concerns, they at least showed some respect to him and his men, more than a lot of the politicians in the building. Not that it was his place to care about said things in the first place, he had to follow orders no matter who treated him in whatever way.

He let out a sigh. “I’ll escort her personally,” he eventually concluded. 

It was the best answer, he could put off reports or the couple of hours the rally took, and his skills were more finely honed than a majority of his men, meaning he’d more than enough. 

“Dismissed, trooper, you’re off duty.”

An attentive ‘yes, sir!’ followed that, with the familiar sound of armored feet marching out his office door. The Commander rolled his shoulders and picked up his personal data pad to double check Amidala’s schedule. He’d have to let Thorn know he wasn’t going to be in during that time slot, and ask him to take on any in-house emergencies, but, other than that, it shouldn’t be an issue.

This was going to be an interesting day.

About two hours later, his shuttle was landing on the platform outside Amidala’s residence. Always vigilant, he was greeted by her personal guard dressed in traditional Naboo attire- how nat-borns felt safe wearing nothing but cloth, he’d never know.

“Commander,” Typho, the captain of her guard, greeted, “what brings you here this time?”

“I was informed of the Senator’s plans to attend that rally,” despite my warnings and advice, “I’m here as extra security,” since, apparently, I care more about her safety than she does!

Typho smirked, the skin near his roguish eye patch crinkling, “If you insist, though, if you have more important duties to tend to, I assure you, we have everything under control.”

“If my other duties were an issue, I wouldn't be here.” The words came out more flatly than he’d intended, but Typho didn’t seem bothered as he led him through the transparisteel doors into the apartment proper.

As always there were aids and household staff running about, along with that gold protocol droid who seemed to find something to fret and cry about at all hours, according to his men. This wasn’t the first time he’d been in the residence himself in the last month and, just when a particular handmaiden came striding out of the bedroom chamber with that cool collected expression, the memory of the previous time came flooding back. 

Not many people stood their ground against a man like him, but you seemed to do it as if it were nothing. He had been demanding to see Amidala, to update her on his latest information regarding the mercenaries, but you had planted yourself between him and her door like a statue. He still remembered that blank stare you gave him, that told him everything and nothing at the same time- that somehow said a rude ‘take a hike, boy’ and a polite ‘the senator will answer your concerns at a later date’ simultaneously. It was only when he had made to shove past you a third time that you told him why he couldn’t go inside yet. Honestly, if you had just said that Amidala was undressed in the first place, he would have understood! He wasn’t that unfamiliar with nat-borns and their boundaries.

Standing in the same room again now, he felt his face get a little warm at the memory, especially when you approached him.

“Good evening, Commander,” you greeted in that smooth, even tone of yours. “Senator Amidala is getting ready for the evening’s events, and wants me to thank you for your offer of extra security.”

How did she- how would you- how could either of you possibly know why he was here already? He recovered quickly enough, clasping his hands behind his back. “Just, doing my job, ma’am.”

“Would you like anything while you wait? Something to drink perhaps? Or…a lengthy report on the event hall and its security weaknesses?”

He blinked behind his helmet, unable to tell if you were joking. Ever since that late night of debating security in Amidala’s office, you seemed a little less careful with your words when talking to him. Even if he still couldn’t always discern their actual meaning.

That was another thing about you that he noticed, his own inability to puzzle you out sometimes. One moment you were all bossy, demanding answers and actions out of him in a cooler tone than most of his COs, the next you were rather pleasant, all respectful nods and considerate questions. Like asking about his name. His name, you were the first nat-born to ever ask him if he even had one.

Even after these little encounters, he still couldn’t quite figure you out, and it was honestly starting to annoy him a little.

“I already did thorough research on the venue, so there’s no need for that,” was the answer he finally settled on.

There was that polite bow of your head again, “Of course, Commander.”

“Fox.”

He almost saw your face twitch in confusion as you looked back up at him. “Pardon?”

“You said that if I ever chose another name, to tell you. I’m Commander Fox now.”

There was the smallest little lift at the corner of your mouth. “Then, I am pleased to reacquaint myself with your name, Commander Fox.”

Fox wasn’t sure if that was some particular Naboo saying or not, but he didn’t have time to wonder as Amidala came striding out of the bedchamber. Fox snapped back to attention fast, and put everything except for protocol out of his thoughts as the evening went on.

All in all, the rally had gone… well. 

Fox stood on the sidelines, scanning the perimeter, repeatedly checking the entry points, and when Amidala gave her speech he made sure no one got even an arm’s length from the podium. You and the other handmaidens were at the woman’s side the whole time, never wavering, always at attention, always watching. Seeing all four women together for the first time, and noting how they positioned themselves around the Senator, made him realize something. 

When the handmaidens moved together, they used a formation that he and his men often did. A military formation. He’d recognize it anywhere, even if the bodies were swathed in velvety cloth instead of hard armor and the hands were tucked into sleeves instead of gripping blasters. Maybe he had more to learn about the training nat-borns went through on various planets.

Oh and…had he said the rally went well? There was an amendment to that: it went well until it all went to shit.

The meeting was over and Fox waved for the senator’s group to follow him through the back room of the venue, to where the transport was waiting outside. His eyes were keen, as always, watching, searching, but even when he didn’t spot anything, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

His fingers were just about to open the door to the outside landing pad, when your voice called out behind him. He turned and saw your brows pinched together as you pressed your finger to your ear.

“I’m not getting a response from our driver,” you said, “I think somethi-” 

He saw your eyes go wide in shock before he registered the door sliding open behind him. Fox’s body was turning on instinct, but he thought he saw a flash of silver being pulled from the velvet of your sleeve before he came face to face with a thug lifting a rifle.

Hands went to his pistols a second before the goon fired, but it was still too slow- until the thug got hit square in the chest from shot fired somewhere behind Fox. That left the Commander free to fire at the two others who where closing in on the door. The second they fell he slammed his elbow on the control panel, eyes darting across the platform to assess, even as the door slid shut.

Another punch with his hand and the door resealed itself, but it wouldn’t hold them for long. 

“I counted five,” there was your voice again, as you crouched opposite him of the entrance, holding a elegant silver blaster at the ready, “five, besides the ones we already stunned.”

“Obviously they thought they could overwhelm us with numbers instead of skill,” he heard Amidala say, completely surrounded by her guards and other handmaidens, all with blasters in hand. 

“This door won’t hold them for long,” Fox could already hear shouts and feet closing in.

That’s when he saw a mischievous kind of determination glimmer in your eyes. “Commander, if they want to trap themselves on that small platform while we hold a choke point, I say: let them.”

Despite himself, Fox smirked behind his helmet. He liked the way you thought.

“We’ll watch your back,” Typho offered, signaling his own guards to cover the only other door in the room.

“I take the left, you right?” you asked, face set, ready.

Fox gave you a second’s long look, and nodded, before he opened the door. 

The moment it hissed open there was chaos. Thankfully, the idiots on the other side couldn’t aim worth a shit. Fox had to trust that you could cover the left, which was, admittedly, not easy for him, but you had been quick enough to shoot the first gunman over his shoulder, and that gave him a little confidence.

Instead, Fox made himself focus on the two who had been trying to get the door open, their closeness making them easy pickings. Later, he might actually laugh at the sheer lack of skill and coordination the group had. He couldn't laugh, though, idiots with guns were their own kind of dangerous and he shouldn't underestimate that.

“Fox, straight ahead!” he heard you shout over the blasterfire, just as his second target fell. 

He looked up and saw a mountain sized lassat, charging at the door with a riot shield in hand, taking all their blaster shot. With barely enough time to dive out of the way, Fox didn’t even see that you had jumped up to grab a shelving unit beside the door.

Your timing was perfect.

The lassat had just barely cleared the door as you pulled on the shelf and sent it slamming into his side, the shield falling useless from his grasp. It wasn’t quite enough to fell the large man, though, and Fox- as well as the other handmaidens in the room, opened fire as the enemy rounded on you with a shout. You ducked under his large fist as the first volley of stun bolts hit him.

By Fox’s count, it took 17 shots to bring him down, and when he fell it was with a resounding thud.

Everyone held their breath for a moment, heart beat thudding in his ears. Not another shot sounded, even as you moved to sweep the doorway one last time. When you confirmed that all was clear, the room breathed again.

Fox was just about to clamber to his feet, when you walked up and extended your hand. “Are you alright, Commander?”

He grunted in reply, taking your offered hand, and felt a jolt of surprise when you hauled him up with almost no effort. A quick scan of your body assured him that you hadn’t been hit, so he turned to the room at large.

“Is everyone else alright?” Fox asked, just as he heard sirens closing in.

“We’re fine,” Amidala announced with pride, “it takes far more than a few would-be bandits to shake us, Fox.” 

“Our driver was finally able to reach us,” Typho interjected, “she managed to escape their ambush and call for back up.”

That explained the sirens. Fox pulled out the wrist binders from his belt pouch and knelt to cuff the lassat. He would have to give his report to the others when they landed, but, before they did, he had one other duty to tend to.

He straightened up, standing practically chest to chest with you as you finally relaxed and lowered your blaster. Fox liked your fire, and hadn’t misplaced his trust when he let you help him. Honestly, if today was any indicator, he’d be proud to fight beside you any day. But, rules were rules.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” his hand shot out to snatch your blaster before you could react, “but you’re in violation of code 187-24.”

“E-excuse me?!”

Fox had never seen a strong emotion on your face to date, so the look of completely anger and incredulity that crossed your face almost made him laugh.

He pushed the thought away as he waved his hands at the other handmaidens, “Neither you, or any of them are registered as personal guards in our records. Under the new Coruscant Guard Regulations, aids are not permitted to carry firearms. Now, given the newness of the codes, I can let all of you off with a warning, but this is a serious violation and further investigation may be needed.”

“Now wait just a moment, Commander!” Amidala said through her teeth as she rushed forward.

Quite a bit of squabbling now mixed with the sounds of sirens, all of it giving Fox a headache. He sighed through he helmet, honestly, he was just doing his job.

And, it was only because he was nice that he wasn’t forcing you into cuffs right there. But no one thought of that while he cleaned up this mess- the mess that also could have been avoid, had everyone just listened to him in the first place!

No one ever listened to Fox.

You should definitely be thanking him for not arresting you.

.

Tag list: @blueink-bluesoul @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @lightwise

[rainydaydream-gal18]

Excuse me but who gave you the right to make this so adorable!!! ❤️❤️❤️

General Storyteller - Rex

Summary: After the Battle of Kamino, Rex finds you surrounded by clone cadets. Length: 1.4k Warnings: Post-Battle; Lots of Teasing; Rex's Flirting is Improving

The battle of Kamino had yielded heavy and unfortunate losses, but the Republic managed to repel the Separatists in the end. Rex, after promoting Echo and Fives to ARC Troopers, sought out the generals. He walked over to where Jesse and Hardcase were relaxing, assuming they would have an idea.

“Has anyone seen the generals?” Rex asked, resting his bucket against his hip.

“General Skywalker’s at the south end of the city, but I have a feeling that you’re not asking about him,” Jesse quipped, causing Rex to narrow his eyes. “She’s with Kix in the infirmary.”

“You know how she always turns into a mother hen after battle,” Hardcase reminded his captain, leaning back against the wall. He elbowed Jesse with a mischievous grin. “She’s probably giving shinies heart attacks.”

“Well, if she can make our esteemed captain blush, what hope do the shinies have, Hardcase?”

Rex, tuning out the rest of their conversation, turned and made his way to the infirmary. Due to the overflow from battle, it had expanded into the mess hall. But Rex assumed that a Jedi would be easy to spot among the clones and Kaminoans. But when he didn’t spot you, Rex made his way over to Kix, who was setting another trooper’s ankle.

“Kix, have you seen the general?”

“She’s in the other room,” Kix stated, pointing to his right. “You won’t be able to miss her.”

Rex raised an eyebrow, but continued on his way. Stepping into one of the wings of the infirmary, Rex paused when he spotted exactly what Kix was talking about. You sat at the end of the room, smiling and talking with all of the young clone cadets gathered around you.

“And then the bridge started to collapse,” you retold dramatically as you carefully bandaged up a cadet’s wrist. “The Separatists planted detonators along the bridge and lured us onto it. And the tactical droid tried to blow us all up.”

“How did you escape?” one of the cadets asked, sitting on the edge of his seat.

“Well, we started running. Anakin and I pushed your brothers to safety with the Force because all of you and all of your brothers in every corner of this galaxy are important to us.”

You gently poked one of the cadets on the tip of his nose to emphasize your point. He blushed bright red, reminding you of another clone, and looked down at his feet bashfully while one of his brothers grabbed his shoulders from behind.

“And no good leader and certainly no good Jedi would say otherwise,” you added, looking out around at the clone cadets. 

Rex was quite sure that the meaning behind your story was not part of the approved Kaminoan curriculum, but he couldn’t help but smile at his younger brothers’ reactions to your story. You smiled and finished up with bandaging a cadet’s wrist before continuing with the story.

“But then we had to run to safety ourselves. Now, Anakin was lucky enough that he was standing close to the edge. So, he escaped easily. But I wasn’t so lucky because a lingering detonator went off right behind me, causing me to lose my balance.”

“What happened next?” a cadet gasped.

“Shhh!” one of the other cadets shushed his brother.

“I’m getting to it,” you promised them with a chuckle. “As I was saying, your brother, Captain Rex, grabbed a long gun—right out of Mule’s hands, mind you—and shot a cable at me.”

“Did he hit you?” one of the cadets asked quickly.

“Do you think I’d miss, Cadet?” Rex called out teasingly.

“Captain Rex!” the cadets called turning around to see him walking towards them.

They all jumped to their feet and stood at attention. Rex stopped in front of the crowd of his young brothers and dismissed them, urging them to sit down again. He turned to you as the cadets got settled again. And even though Rex felt a familiar heat start to climb up his neck, he moved to take a seat on one of the beds. Clearing his throat as you offered him a soft smile, he nodded.

“You were saying, General.”

“Right, Captain,” you mused before turning back to his brothers. “No, Captain Rex didn’t hit me with the cable. It landed in front of me and I held onto it as the bridge tumbled down. And with some help from some of your other brothers, he pulled me up to safety.”

“Captain Rex saved your life?”

“Yes, he did,” you stated without hesitation.

“To be fair, you’ve saved mine a number of times, General,” Rex spoke up, causing you to smile.

“Yes, shall I tell all of you one of those stories next?”

The cadets cheered but Rex got back to his feet and motioned towards the door. You nodded and slowly stood up, causing the cadets to sigh and whine. Giving them a kind smile, you kneeled down so that you were eye level with all of them again.

“I must go back to being a general. But you should try and find General Kenobi, for he’s an even better story teller than me. But which battalion is the best in the GAR again?”

“The 501st!”

“And don’t you forget it,” Rex added, causing his younger brothers to grin.

Bidding the cadets goodbye, you stood up and walked with Rex out of the infirmary. The two of you moved in silence for a moment before Rex turned to you with a soft look.

“You survived the battle alright, General?”

“I should be asking you that question, Rex. This is your home. All of your homes.” You sighed and added quietly, “I’m sorry we didn’t defend it better.”  

“Kamino was always a target to the Seppies,” Rex stated, turning to look forward again. “But thank you, General.” Clearing his throat a bit, Rex turned forward once again. “And thank you for looking after the cadets. They were bred for war, but they were never trained for it to happen in their own home.”

“Of course,” you returned, nodding politely. “I have a soft spot for children. I believe my master’s habits rubbed off on me.”

“It’s not a bad habit to have.”

“Well, and clone cadets are adorable. In a way, the clones and the Jedi have a lot in common. We were raised communally as well. It’s a setup most citizens find unnatural, almost.”

“Well, your people can move things with their minds. My brothers and I all share the same face. They might not be far off,” Rex quipped, causing you to chuckle.

Stepping into the lift together, you stood side by side as you made your way back to the upper floors of the facility. No doubt that Shaak Ti and Obi-Wan were looking for the two of you. Placing your hands on your hips and turned to Rex with a mischievous smile.

“What were you like as a cadet, Rex?”

“Top of my class, of course.”

“Of course,” you agreed teasingly, causing Rex to tilt his chin up. “But don’t tell me that you were always this stoic and brooding.”

“Brooding?” Rex repeated, earning a laugh in return.

“Come on, Rex. You must have broken a few rules in your time on Kamino.”

“I would assume as many as you did when you were a padawan, General.”

“My master was on the Jedi High Council, so I had an image to uphold.” After a moment, you added with a grin, “But also more time unsupervised. And, well, Anakin was a poor influence on me.” Your smile softened as you turned back to Rex. “Perhaps I’ll tell you some of those stories one day, Captain.”

“I look forward to it, General.”

Stepping off the elevator together, you and Rex shared a smile before Commander Cody called out to the two of you. Rex winced when he spotted Cody’s knowing look and you pulled on a more professional expression in the presence of the marshal commander.

“General Kenobi requested your assistance with moving some of the larger pieces of debris,” Cody told you. “He’s in the eastern part of the city.”

“Thank you, Commander Cody, I will go meet him.” Nodding to Cody, you turned to Rex, who returned your burning gaze. “I’ll see you later, Captain.”

And with that, you walked down the hall and away from them. You couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder at Rex. Staring after you until your figure disappeared around the corner, Rex ignored Cody’s stare and smirk. Rolling his eyes, Rex brushed past his brother.

“I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” Cody called after him, causing Rex to wince.

“Stow it, Cody.”

[awkward-tension-art]

Order 66 (tbb x Jedi!reader)

Ok, so i’ve had this idea in my head of the clones with a Jedi S/O during Order 66. I don’t mean they act on Order 66, I mean if everything sorta played out similar in canon (Chip doesn’t work)

Idk, I like me some protective boys.

CW: minimally proofread, jedi!S/O, Reader, Gender neutral pronouns, Order 66, violence, death, swearing, Hunter trying his best, Wrecker being a sweetie, Echo is ready to fight, Tech is the only one who is level headed, and Crosshair being somewhat emotional

You were following Caleb when the order came through. Your steps stumbled and your knees hit the cold ground. All around you, the Force was being ripped apart. Hands were on your shoulders. 

your lover. You barely realized through the haze.

With absolute horror, you watched helplessly as clones gunned down Depa Billaba. “Run Caleb!” You heard her scream through the overwhelming grief and death you felt. The padawan turned, lightsaber ready. 

“Get away from us!” he barked, calling your name, “Get up! Please!”

He was panicked, confused. So were you. 

You managed to look up, seeing the clone troopers across the field standing over Master Billaba’s smoking corpse. They were prepping to kill you and the padawan next.

Without another word you bolted, grabbing Caleb’s hand and sprinting to the trees. You didn’t look back. You had to make sure the kid was safe.

Hunter

“Wait!” He’ll give chase before stopping at the tree line. He had never seen you look so devastated and afraid. 

He’s going to follow you. Of course he is. He’s just as confused as everyone else. 

Until Tech finally finds out what's going on

“The Jedi have been ordered to be executed.” “Which one?” “All of them.”

“What!? Why!?” Hunter is panicked at this point. The troopers behind him have orders to kill. They won’t show you mercy. 

“Apparently they’ve committed treason.”

By the time he finds you, Caleb had already jumped across the ravine and was waiting for you. You turned, tears in your eyes.

“I can feel it…everyone is being killed.” 

“We’re going to figure this out,” He’s going to try and calm you down, “I promise, we’re going to figure this out.” His arms are around you. 

It wasn’t safe for you. Not anywhere near him and the others. He knows this. You know this. 

The two of you come up with a hurried plan.

“Go to these coordinates. Once we know what's going on, I’ll come find you.” He’ll kiss you passionately, “Get the kid and hide.” 

Hunter won’t go with you. He’s the squad leader. He can’t just go missing. 

Despite the fear that you’ll be found out, he trusts you and your skills to stay alive.

Once you jump across, he’ll watch, make sure no one follows or tries to shoot at you. 

Once he’s questioned on your whereabouts, he’s going to lie, “I managed to stab the kid and shoot the Jedi. both of them fell into the water.”

I will say, his nerves are shot until he gets to you again. 

But in the meanwhile? He’s antsy. Anxious and a tad distracted.

Also a hairs trigger from snapping.

Crosshair badgers him at Kamino and Hunter barely holds back a punch.

Hunter loves you, so damn dearly. And right now he can’t protect you because he needs to figure out what the fuck is going on.

But, after finding the truth and getting Omega, he makes a damn beeline for the coordinates he gave you.

Plus side? Caleb and Omega become friends.

Echo

What the FUCK just happend!?

He sprints into the trees to keep up, ignoring how Hunter is calling his name. 

“Echo, get back here!” 

“No.” He will cut off his comms. 

He’s an ARC trooper, he can track you to a degree. He’s not like Hunter, but he gets to the general area where you are. 

He manages to get to a clearing where you and Caleb are hiding in the trees. 

“Cyare!” Echo is clearly confused, worried and he swears he feels the same amount of death that’s overwhelmed you. 

Once you reveal yourself, his helmet is off and his arms are around you so tightly.

“I don’t know what's going on, but I’ll keep you and Commander Dume safe.”

Hunter and Crosshair catch up to you, and once Crosshair aims his blaster at you and Caleb, Echo is ready to brawl. 

He stands protectively in front of you, gun aimed at the sniper, “If your skinny ass doesn’t put the fucking gun away I swear to-!”

“Both of you stand down!” Hunter will have to get between them, because Echo is 100% willing to shoot Crosshair if it means you stay safe. 

He’s not aware Crosshair doesn't exactly have a choice at the moment.

Really no one is aware.

But he’s lost domino squad, he’s lost Fives, he's lost legion, right now his former general is probably being killed…He’s lost so much already.

He refuses to lose you too.

So Echo pulls the trigger first, settling on stunning him and making a dash towards the ravine. Hunter has to keep up.

Once Caleb is across, he’ll get meetup coordinates from Hunter.

Echo goes with you. He doesn’t return to Kamino. The moment he's across the ravine with you and Caleb he’s a deserter. 

He doesn’t care. He just doesn’t want to lose you.

He’s a strong, determined guard, and one who didn’t let you or Caleb get hurt.

Wrecker

He casts a glance at Hunter before running off after you. 

He has no idea what Order 66 is. Nor does he care.

The guy saw you so…out of it. So scared and confused.

His protective instincts have geared up to 11. 

Hunter goes with him, while Crosshair is the one who remains behind to stall.

Once Tech informs everyone that the Jedi have been named traitors and should be executed on sight, Wrecker gets serious. Very serious. 

He becomes so unlike himself, even Crosshair is surprised.

Honestly? I see Wrecker as someone willing to gun down any ‘reg’ if they’re threatening his squad or s/o. 

Even this early into the Empire.

When he sees you, he’s immediately grabbing you into his arms which causes Caleb to attack.

Admittedly he’s gonna tackle Caleb, only adding to the poor kids terror. 

“Wrecker, you're scaring him!” 

But after a strong bear hug and an “Easy kid! I’m tryna help you!” The padawan calms down enough to listen. 

He puts Caleb down, rips off his helmet and gives you one hell of a kiss. 

He’s worried. He’s scared. And he wants to protect you. 

Hunter will have to talk him down from running off with you.

The sergeant has to keep his squad together. It sucks but they need to figure out what the heck is happening at the moment.

Wrecker desperately wants to go with you but he can’t abandon his squad.

However, he feels much better once Hunter gives some safe coordinates to lay low and hide.

He’ll get you to the ravine and stand guard until you and Caleb are across and out of sight.

You bet your ass when he meets up with you again he’s not letting you go. 

Tech

He isn’t as emotional as the others at the moment. He’s actually focused on gathering as much information in the least amount of time.

He waits, listening to the comm chatter. What is going on? why?

“Execute Order 66.”

After a second, he shares a look with Hunter.

“Tech, go after-”

No more words need to be said. Tech is gone and going after you.

He’s smart. He knows your patterns. He knows where you’d most likely hide. So he focuses on that.

Once he’s confident he’s in a broad area where you and Caleb are, he’s going to call out to you, “Cyare? There’s something called Order 66 on the comms.” 

Tech gives you information first. He won’t make you reveal yourself if you don’t feel safe enough. 

When Echo announces that the Jedi have been charged with treason, he’ll relay that to you. 

“The comms say the Jedi committed treason against the Republic,” He’s going to keep looking around for you, “I know you. You’d never do such a thing. I’m here, Cyare. I can help you.”

Once you reveal yourself, Caleb behind you, he feels the biggest amount of relief. 

He pulls off his helmet, giving you a small smile.

“Tech…The Jedi…” your voice cracks, “They’re being killed…I can feel it.” 

“I know, Cyare…I’m sorry.” He tries his best to comfort you, but he knows he can never understand. 

The amount of Jedi he’s worked with can be counted on one hand. 

But he knows this is your family. Your friends. Your very life.

Once Hunter meets up with you guys, a plan can be put in place. 

He gives you coordinates for a location to meet-up and hide. You’ll lay low with Caleb.

In the meantime, Tech will return to Kamino, figure out what's happening, and from there a better, more long term plan can be made.

Before you leave though, he’s going to give you the longest, most passionate kiss he's ever given you.

He’s well aware that there's a chance you can be found and killed. 

Tech is the only one who has accepted that you may not make it out of this.

But he’s going to keep his mind occupied, distract himself until he’s by your side again. 

Crosshair

As soon as the order goes out, Crosshair is under the influence of the inhibitor chip.

He just doesn’t know. No one does at this point.

He watches you run away with Caleb and the drive to hunt you down is hard to ignore.

He needs to find you to kill you, to protect you.

But, the sudden headache he has is damn near blinding.

Crosshair follows Hunter, keeping his comms on.

He freezes when Tech finds out the Jedi have been marked for execution.

The Inhibitor Chip in his skull is contending with his feelings for you.

He needs to execute save you.

When he spots you he pulls his rifle and aims but barely manages to stop himself.

He can’t hurt you. He needs to kill loves you.

Crosshair draws some sort of conclusion that Kaminoans had conditioned all clones to follow specific orders.

He doesn’t know of the chip. He just assumes it comes from the troopers' conditioning.

When his arms are around your body, for a brief moment he thinks of snapping your neck.

Good soldiers follow orders.

He hates orders.

This is the point where Crosshair knows something is seriously wrong with him.

But he’s not going to say anything yet. He can still fight if need be.

“You need to run…hide…get away from here.” it's a rare moment that he’s scared.

The sniper is desperate to shoot protect you.

The headache is persistent, and it’s somewhat distracting.

But he’ll power through.

Crosshair will wait for Hunter to come up with…something. 

His eyes are on the area around you, gun set to kill in case any reg tries anything.

The plan? Clone Force 99 returns to Kamino while you and Caleb go into hiding. 

You have coordinates. He can find you later. 

But…well Crosshair doesn’t like that. At all.

Hear me out. Like Echo, Crosshair goes with you. He knows somethings up with him, but he trusts himself more than he trusts anyone else.

“Tell Kamino they killed me.” He instructs Hunter, “That I died trying to stop the Jedi and you managed to get justice.”

He crosses the ravine with you, only looking back to nod back to Hunter. 

By the time Crosshair, you and Caleb safely get off the planet, his headache is a small annoyance that goes away with time.

Crosshair sticks with you until he reunites with his squad and notices Omega

Welp, you got Caleb, what's one more kid?

[starrylothcat]

Hey hey! Love your writing!

I wanted to ask for some nsfw headcannons for Wolffe, Cody, and Rex. Where their F!Jedi reader keeps force projecting different sex scenes of them together during a briefing; with the boys trying to keep it together during the briefing and their reactions/what they say to her after.

I also just wanted to say, that you are one my favorite TCW/TBB writers on Tumblr!

Distractions - NSFW Headcanons with Cody, Wolffe, and Rex

Summary: You decide to spice up a pre-mission briefing meeting by projecting naughty visions to your clone, knowing you’ll pay for it later.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Absolute filth. Smut. No real plot. Dom vibes from Wolffe and Cody, slightly rough handling but everything consensual. Fingering, oral, PiV sex. Reader a Jedi, not described in detail.

Pairings: Cody x Fem!JediReader, Wolffe x Fem!JediReader, Rex x Fem!JediReader

WC: Around 2,000 total (bullet points)

A/N: Let me tell you, the squeal I squealed when I got this ask! Thank you for this filthy request, anon! And thank you for your even kinder comment, I was having some self-doubt in my writing lately and I’m glad that you are enjoying my silly little stories, it means a lot to me and I love writing for y’all!

This is pure smutty goodness below the cut, I hope it’s what you envisioned. I had fun writing this for sure! I kinda got carried away with Rex, oops. Enjoy! 💛

✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.*

💛 Cody 💛

He is a tough man to crack.

He’s always the Marshal Commander, taking his duties seriously on and off the battlefield.

You started innocently, visions of you kissing up and down his torso, slowly taking off his armor and blacks, fondling his cock, whispering how good of a girl you’ve been and that you’re ready to please your Commander in any way.

Cody didn’t even look at you, though you saw his hand twitch slightly at his side.

You smiled to yourself, projecting a more enticing scene into his mind.

This time, you were sucking his cock, his gloved hand wrapped in your hair, mumbling how amazing your lips felt around him, how much he was going to reward you later for being so good to him.

Still, nothing. Though his jaw seemed tense as he listened to Obi-Wan go over battle plans.

You knew you were playing a dangerous game, an exceedingly dangerous game, one that you will be thouroughly punished for later.

The thought shot a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, upping the ante again, needing him to crack.

The next image was of you, laying on his bunk, pleasuring yourself, two fingers deep inside your sopping pussy, your other hand pinching and tweaking your nipples writhing and moaning in pleasure, getting off completely fine without his assistance.

Since my Commander can’t be bothered to help me, I have to take matters into my own hands…

You held that teasing, lewd image in his mind, and you could almost feel the blade of his stare pierce straight through you as he finally made eye contact across the room.

It was a simple gesture that said so much, and you knew you had him.

After the meeting, you went straight to your personal quarters, knowing he wouldn’t be too far behind.

As your door hissed closed behind you, it was open again, and Cody had you pinned to a nearby wall so fast you barely had time to register what was happening.

Cody was deadly silent as he crushed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, teeth and tongue clashing as his armored body pressed into your robed one.

You smirked against his lips as he pulled away for air, your lungs burning. “Cody-“

Cody growled as he flipped you around, your face pressed up agains the wall, tugging down your robes, revealing your ass to him and your glistening pussy.

He gave your ass a solid smack, his lips against your ear, heavy and commanding.

“You’re not getting away with this.”

You sighed in both pain and pleasure, hearing the clunk of his codpiece hitting the floor, his fingers gripping your ass hard as he rubbed his rigid cock at your entrance.

“Is this what you wanted?” He husked, “to be filled by your Commander? To beg for this cock? Oh, mesh’la, you’ll be begging.”

You let out a whine as he teased your dripping entrance with his cockhead, already thinking you maybe took it a little too far with your visions, knowing he was a man true to his word.

It was too late now.

“Cody, please, I need-“

Smack! Another slap to your ass, his other hand wandering between your folds.

“Only good, obedient girls get this cock. After that stunt in the comm room, you have a lot to make up for.“

He swiped a finger over your clit, causing you to cry out, your body twitching, unable to move much between the wall and his solid form behind you.

He roughly rubbed your clit, pushing two fingers into your entrance, immediately finding the spongy spot that made you see stars.

“You’re soaking, mesh’la, so needy for me.”

You could feel your release coming quickly, choking out his name as his other hand groped at your breast.

Cody knew you were close, feeling you tighten around him, your high pitched moans giving you away.

Cody removed his fingers right as you were about to reach your peak.

You whimpered, trying to lean back against him, desperate for your release, for anything.

Cody spun you around again, pressing his gloved fingers soaked with your juice to your lips.

“If you’re good, I’ll let you cum. You haven’t proved yourself to me, though. Now be a good girl, and clean me up.”

You licked his gloved fingers clean, tasting yourself and giving him a little show of what you could do with your tongue, if you let him.

Cody’s eyes darkened, slowly pulling his fingers out of your mouth, a line of spit connecting your lips to his fingers.

“On your knees, mesh’la. Like I said, you have a lot to make up for.”

🖤 Wolffe 🖤

The image you projected was absolutely filthy.

Your hands were pinned behind your back by his large hand, the other pressing between your shoulder blades keeping you down on the bed as he pounded into you from behind.

You were shamelessly moaning his name like a dirty Holofilm star, crying out for him to go harder, faster.

You stood at attention, casually glancing at him, noticing a bead of sweat forming at Wolffe’s temple.

You could sense he was trying his best not to leap over the holomap and ravage you in front of everyone.

You decided he had enough of the first fantasy, briefly closed your eyes, projecting another scene into his mind.

You were on your knees in front of him, your mouth open as he shoots ropes of cum all over your face, greedily lapping it up, kissing up and down his still-hard cock, begging for more.

Wolffe’s eyes flashed at you, his cybernetic eye and scar making him look more dangerous than usual, his eyes narrowing.

Got him.

You were enjoying watching him keep it together, a vein bulging at his forehead, his neck tense as he stood at attention, listening to Master Koon’s hologram.

You knew you were in for it after the meeting.

That was the entire point.

Wolffe was practically kicking down the door to your personal quarters after the meeting, pinning you to your bed, his mouth ravaging yours, moving down to suck and bite at your neck, hard.

He had your wrists held above your head with one hand, his grip like iron.

There was no escape.

“What was that?” He growled as he continued the assault on your neck, his hand tightening even more around your wrists that were wiggling to get free.

You whined as his hand that was digging into your waist moved under your robes, up toward your breasts.

“Answer me, mesh’la. Or you won’t get what you so obviously want.”

His gloved touch left a trail of fire on your skin, sending goosebumps across your body and a jolt of arousal straight to your pussy, your panties wet at the anticipation.

“You looked bored during the meeting.” You smirked at up at him, breathy pants leaving you as he touched you. “Thought you could use some entertainment.”

Wolffe’s gaze darkened at your teasing tone, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Without warning, he ripped open the front of your robes, yanking down your breast band.

You yelped as he attacked your breasts with this lips and teeth, leaving more marks for him to gently kiss over later when he was through with you.

“Do you want my cum, mesh’la? Is that what you want?” Wolffe grunted against your flushed skin as he switched to your other breast.

You gasped a yes, his teeth expertly nipping and tugging at your sensitive bud.

You writhed, your wrists still restrained above your head by his strong hand.

“I’ll fill your mouth to the brim, and you’ll swallow every drop, isn’t that right you filthy girl?”

You nodded, almost delirious just at his mouth on your nipples. He hadn’t even really started touching you yet.

“And then I’ll fill that pretty pussy of yours, but only if you behave. Will you behave for me?”

“Y-yes!” Your voice cracked, needing him to fuck you until you couldn’t remember your name. 

“Yes…?” He stopped, his predatory gaze locking on you.

“Yes…Commander.”

“Good girl.”

Wolffe continued ravaging your breasts, your mewls filling the room.

“Please, I want your cock inside me, I want you to cum so deep inside me, Wolf-Commander. I’ll be good, I promise…”

Wolffe released your wrists, your hands finally free.

“You haven’t been good though, you knew that the second you invaded my mind with those visions.”

Wolffe sat up, and began removing his armor. You forgot it was even still on.

“I’ll make sure you’re properly punished for such distractions, and then I’ll decide when you’re ready for my cock.”

You shivered at his promise as he climbed over you, just in his blacks, the outline of his rigid cock straining against the fabric.

“I dunno, Commander. You seem to be all bark and no bite.” You teased, knowing you were getting yourself into even more trouble.

A dark chuckle reverberated in his chest, ripping your pants and panties down your legs, tossing them to the side.

Wolffe grasped your thighs, biting down into the soft flesh of your inner leg, earning a loud yelp from you as his tongue eased the first of many marks he will leave on your body.

“Be careful what you wish for, mesh’la.”

💙 Rex 💙

You had him sweating and fidgeting as Rex tried to keep a straight face in the briefing room.

Rex was attempting to listen to the mission report, but your vision in his mind was proving to be quite the distraction.

You were on his face, his hands grasping your thighs as he feasted on your pussy from below.

“Rex, oh kriff, more, please, I need your big cock, I want you to ruin me.”

Rex gave you a desperate look from across the room, slightly shaking his head.

You ignored his pleading glance, changing the vision.

Now, you were splayed out on his desk in his private Captain’s quarters, his cock driving deeper and deeper into you, your back arching as you rubbed your clit, cumming over and over again around him.

His desk was dripping with your juices, your breasts bouncing almost comically as you cried out his name, hamming up the vision to see Rex squirm.

Rex suddenly coughed, everyone in the room looking at him momentarily.

You rocked on your heels, hands behind your back, pretending to listen as the pre-mission brief continued, completely innocent.

Finally, the meeting ended.

You exited the room, Rex quickly walking past you.

“My office. Now.” He hissed quietly, before being called over by Anakin to discuss further plans.

When Rex opened the door to his office, you were sitting at his desk, waiting for him.

“You have a lot of explaining to do, General.” Rex strode up to you, placing his hands on his desk, leaning over toward you.

You loved it when he used his serious Captain voice on you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Captain.”

“You know.” His voice dropped an octave, husky and gruff, just how you liked it.

“You’ll have to elaborate. I can’t read minds.”

Rex stood up straight, his expression unreadable. You continued to sit in his chair as he walked around the desk and over to you.

Rex leaned down again, placing his hands on the armrests of the chair, caging you in.

For a moment, you thought he was actually upset with you. You felt guilty, maybe you did take it too far in the meeting.

You opened your mouth to apologize, but Rex spoke first.

“I think you can, mesh’la. How else would you know those visions are what I think about doing to you every waking moment?”

His lips were hovering centimeters from yours, a quiet gasp leaving your lips, your body quivering at his statement.

Oh, he liked it.

His breath fanned over your face, feeling your panties dampen, his usual soft eyes glazed over with lust.

You leaned forward to close the small distance, wanting to taste him, but he pulled away, avoiding your kiss.

“Mmm, mesh’la. You’re not going to get what you want so easily.” Rex purred in your ear, his gloved hand snaking up your neck, tilting your head to the side.

He placed a hot kiss right below your ear, lazily licking your neck.

“Rex…” you sighed, grasping at his shoulder pads, his teeth grazing your skin, his lips pressing to the side of your jaw.

“You want something from me?” He removed himself from you, kneeling between your legs.

“I’m not sure if you deserve it. I could write you up for what you did back there.”

Rex hooked his fingers under your pants, pulling them down your legs. You lifted your ass, helping him remove your lower clothes.

“Yeah? What would the report say?” You shuddered as Rex began lavishing your bare thighs, teeth and tongue sucking and nibbling as he slowly made his way up to your aching apex.

You could feel Rex smirk against your skin.

“My General coercing me into questionable situations. Inappropriate use of Jedi abilities.”

Rex stopped right at your core, aching and throbbing for him. You could feel his breath on your pussy, desperate now for any friction.

You let out a frustrated whine as Rex kissed your inner thigh, ignoring where you needed him most.

“Rex…”

“Patience, mesh’la. You need a lesson in discipline, it seems.”

Rex brushed his nose against your clit, your hips instinctually bucking up toward him, your hands grasping at his buzzed hair.

You groaned impatiently as he gently kissed your labia, touching you everywhere but your clit.

“You’re not going to get what you want so easily.” He rumbled into your core, a finger now teasing your entrance.

You panted, knowing you asked for this, that you deserved this, but you could still protest to his teasing.

“Captain, please…” You begged, shifting your hips, hoping he would press his finger knuckle deep inside you.

Rex continued to just tease your entrance with his finger tip, slowly circling, not quite pressing all the way inside.

“Kriff, you’re so wet. Do you want me to fuck you on my desk? Do you want to cum over and over again on my cock?”

You nodded, heavy pants the only sound able to leave your lips as he finally pressed his finger inside.

“Use your words, is that what you want?”

Rex’s lips were brushing over your clit, the teasing almost too much.

“Y-yes! Please, Rex, I need you inside me!” Your words came out as a garbled cry as he suddenly sucked on your clit, adding a second finger to your pussy, stretching you so deliciously you thought you might cry, pleasure shooting up your spine.

And his cock wasn’t even inside you yet.

“You’ll get my cock, mesh’la, don’t worry. But first, I want you to cum just like this.” Rex added a third finger, his tongue and lips circling your clit, your vision white from the pleasure as you squirmed and writhed in his chair, totally at his mercy, your orgasm building quickly.

You came apart on his fingers, shaking and sobbing his name, pleasure coursing through you as Rex’s fingers and mouth worked you through your first orgasm.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum.” Rex’s pupils were blown with desire, licking his lips as he cleaned you up, his baritone voice was laden with desire, his control now gone.

You barely had time to come down from you high as Rex easily lifted you onto his desk, removing his codpiece in a flash, pulling down his blacks far enough for his flushed, dripping cock to spring free.

“And you’re going to cum again, and again, and again. Are you ready, mesh’la? This is what you asked for.”

Your answer was a cry of his name, his hands gripping your hips as he slammed into you, starting a devastating pace, fucking you exactly like you showed him in your vision.

Your last coherent thought before being so thoroughly fucked and blissed out by your Captain was that you should definitely tease him like this more often.

Tag list: @littlemissmanga @maybethatfanfictionwriter @secondaryrealm @sinfulsalutations @anxiouspineapple99 @secretthegriffin @idontgetanysleep @starqueensthings @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @dreamie411 @aconstructofamind @coraex @multi-fan-dom-madness @freesia-writes @kashasenpai @sunshinesdaydream @din-miller @clonemedickix @wizardofrozz @pb-jellybeans @wanderer-six @blueink-bluesoul @the-cantina @king-chaos-world @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @523rdrebel @sleepingsun501 @sunshinesdaydream

[verybadatwriting]

very good!!! :D

I love it!

Useless

Pairing: None

Word Count: 2,936

Prompt: “May I request that the Reader is Anakin’s Padawan and she gets captured on a mission. But she escapes or Anakin Saves her and it’s just a cute comforting reunion. Also that her and Anakin have a family bond, like she views him as a parental figure and not romantically.”

Warnings: Descriptions of torture.

AO3 Link (I would recommend using this if the formatting on tumblr mobile is acting up.)

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

When you wake up, it takes you a moment to remember exactly where you are, eyes still shut to avoid any source of light. There’s an ache in your skull, and you realize very quickly that your hands are bound above you.

Your eyes snap open then, ignoring the painfully bright light as you try to take in your surroundings, survival instincts taking over. The room is empty aside from the intensely luminous machine you’re restrained to, but beyond a window in the side wall you can see masked figures around a control panel.

“Ah, young Jedi, so good of you to finally join us,” a voice says, and it’s then that the memories finally come back. The mission, the supposedly simple rescue mission, the traitor, the trap… the sound of Anakin’s voice shouting stop rings clear in your mind. You had already breathed in the sedative, though; you were on the ground before they even started firing.

God, you couldn’t have been more useless if you’d tried.

“We’re going to ask a few simple questions, and should you fail to provide the answer we want, we shall… motivate you toward cooperation.”

Not even a second follows their words before a current runs through you, your entire body seizing with the force of the electricity. When it passes, you immediately fall forward, breathing heavy. “That was merely a small taste of our machine’s capabilities, so do keep that in mind when choosing your words, Jedi.

“Where is Admiral Coburn stationed?”

You understand from their first question alone that they have no clue you’re a Padawan. The information they’re asking for is something even Anakin might not know, and you’re the one strapped to a torture device, expected to answer.

You’re about to admit you have no idea before holding your tongue, suddenly aware that these people would have no hesitation in killing someone that’s no longer of use.

You have to make them think you’re useful.

Keep reading

[momojedi]

Could I have #88 and #97 with Captain Rex, pretty please...??

JUST MARRIED PAIRING: Captain Rex x GN! Reader

#88 | “Don’t panic but I think we might have accidentally gotten married…” #97 | “I want you and I know you want me too.”

GENRE: Fluff WARNING: none A/N: Since I got prompted #88 by an anon who asked for no one in particular, I mixed up your request with theirs. Thanks for requesting!

MASTERLIST | MOMOJEDI'S 300 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION

"Mhi solus tome,

Mhi solus dar’tome.

Mhi me’dinui an,

Mhi ba’juri verde."

Intense concentration furrows my brow as I massage my temples, striving to translate the unfamiliar words. "For fuck's sake," I mutter, frustration punctuating each syllable as I kick a nearby pebble with surprising strength, eliciting a muffled groan and the metallic clang of beskar as it ricochets off a distant helmet.

Two weeks may not seem long, especially when operating undercover among a terrorist faction whilst the galaxy is engulfed in war. It would probably be advisable to keep a cool head and avoid making a big deal out of insignificant subjects—such as unfamiliar phrases. However, when those words escape the lips of your longtime crush, delivered with an unexpected fervor while locking passionate eyes with you in a language foreign to your ears...

Well, needless to say, I've devoted more time to overthinking it than I care to admit.

When General Skywalker tasked us with shadowing Death Watch until the Jedi Council reached more intel, I hadn't given it much thought... admittedly, he hadn't specified that by "us" he didn't mean Ahsoka and me, as usual, but rather the captain of the 501st and myself—the very someone I've harboured feelings for since the day we met.

Nevertheless, I maintained my composure, played my part, and stayed under the radar, much like Rex, until Death Watch proposed an elaborate ceremony—a ceremony whose name I could barely pronounce, let alone understand its significance. Before any suspicion could arise, Rex quickly agreed in my place, and now here I am, entangled in some eerie ritual with a military captain whose gaze seemed entranced, so intense was his focus.

"If I had my datapad right now...," I hiss under my breath, casting blame on whoever decided I should leave my sole translation device behind. Likely Skywalker.

The crunch of gravel under heavy boots interrupts my daydreaming. I spin around sharply, only to find the very man haunting my mind approaching. "I figured I'd find you here," Rex hums as he settles beside me. "Yeah," I reply with a dry laugh, brushing the dust off my hands. "Sorry, I suppose I just needed... alone time. After everything yesterday, you know?" Rex's eyes widen almost comically, and he sheepishly scratches the back of his neck. "Oh... yeah."

The ensuing silence gnaws at my nerves, prompting me to pop the question after another agonising five minutes. "Hey, about that... what did those words mean, anyway?" "I'm not sure what you're referring to," Rex responds, avoiding my gaze. I gulp. He can't have forgotten, can he? "Come on, Rex... It seemed significant." After a moment's hesitation, Rex sighs, running a hand over his buzzcut before raising his head to face me, though still evading it. "I..." "Yes?" "Alright, fine. [Name], don't panic, but... we might have accidentally... gotten married."

...

"WHAT?"

"Shh!" Rex quiets me with a gentle hand over my mouth, his eyes darting cautiously around us before he releases me. I shake my head slowly, puzzled. "Sorry, but what?" "The, um, the words... they were Mandalorian wedding vows," he admits, his tone tinged with uncertainty. I can't help but laugh. Married? Us? "You're joking." "Unfortunately not," he replies, a slight smile tugging at his lips, before his expression shifts to sheepishness as he rubs the back of his neck. "Though I do believe you'd make an excellent partner." Suppressing a chuckle, I ignore the warmth creeping into my cheeks.

"Actually, I realized we needed a distraction when I overheard some members gossiping behind our backs. They were growing suspicious, so I thought perhaps they'd relax if we participated in some traditions." Rex sighs, examining a pebble he's picked up. I shoot him a hopeful sidelong glance before quickly looking away, feeling my heart quicken.

Force, this man is captivating.

Silence envelops us once more as we both drift deeper into our own thoughts. When I sense the gravel shifting under his weight, I raise an eyebrow. "It wouldn't bother me, you know?" A lump forms in my throat, causing a series of coughs to escape at his words. "Wh-what?" "Being with you." Suddenly, his warm yet weighty hand finds mine. Sweat prickles at my heated skin as I keep my gaze fixed ahead.

"R-rex, are you suggesting...?" "[Name]," he interrupts, turning to face me. Before I can evade his gaze, he gently lifts my chin, compelling me to meet his eyes. I run my tongue over my dry lips, which his gaze is now fixated on. "I want you. And I know you want me, too." His proximity sends shivers down my spine as goosebumps ripple over my arms and back. His newfound confidence is palpable. "I've noticed the way you look at me, how you stare. I know, [name]," he murmurs against my lips, "what do you think?"

I flush, gripping his wrist as I lock eyes with his warm gaze. "I think you're right." Rex chuckles deeply, resonating like a rumble in his chest. "Good." And before I realize it, his lips meet mine,

Time seems to slip away as I surrender completely to the kiss. Eventually, Rex pulls back, leaving me breathless, and flashes me a mischievous grin.

“So, about that wedding night…”

[obiwansito]

The Great War

masterlist 𐐒𐐚 ⁺

fic playlist ʚĭɞ taglist ʚĭɞ all fics masterlist

pairing- obi wan x f!reader

summary- after years of war and a secret relationship with obi-wan, you discover you are pregnant. you decide to be optimistic, rumours say the clone wars are about to end.

but sometimes, love can't fix everything.

tags & warnings- graphic violence, major canonical character dead (not obi wan or reader), unplanned pregnancy, angst, smut (+18 mdni), order 66, death and blood, canon compliant, battle scenes, anxiety. (more to be added).

status- in progress

chapter 1: spineless in my tomb of silence

chapter 2: the bombs were close

chapter 3: somewhere in the haze

chapter 4: the night i nearly lost you

chapter 5: i vowed i would always be yours

epilogue: cause we survived the great war

© obiwansito, 2024. reposts, copies and translations are not allowed. my work cannot be used for training AI.

[emperor-palpaminty]

Kix X Reader

Hi I had feelings for the last clone and I wanted some angst so. Have some Kix. Here is his wookiepedia which is interesting! It may give you some context as well. This is a part of my underappreciated clones series- send in a clone you don't think gets enough love!

Also BTW this armor SLAPS (from his Wookiepedia)

You had seen all kinds of outcasts, outlaws, and outsiders come by your little hostel. It offered a safe place for people to come stay. With the empire crumbled and a new order trying to be rebuilt, people needed somewhere safe to lay their heads.

You only had one rule: no fighting or killing within the walls of your domain. If they did, they would be subject to being booted out or being hunted down by the other patrons.

And you did not want these patrons getting peeved at one another.

You sighed. The air was humid on this planet. Money and business was good, and that seemed to be enough for you to never leave whenever the inkling came to mind to scurry off this planet. Especially in a galaxy as turbulent as this one- it felt like little skirmishes were still outbreaking, with bounty hunters and gangsters slowly finding their places and rising in this more free and open universe without an Empire to bow down to. Your arm hurt from scrubbing the counter.

Your parents had met in the war. You didn't hear them talk too much about it- war is war, they said, and it is better to not discuss these things.

So you let it stay quiet as they established the little inn. Their scars and weapons hanging on walls behind the counters or hidden in closets did all the talking.

Everyone needed a place to rest. Surviors and deserters and bounty hunters. It made money.

But you never knew who would walk in the door.

Even when the door opened, you could sense the meloncholy weight on his shoulders. You didn't pay much attention to the feelings that plagued you when you saw people- the sadness, the anger, the dread.

This guy was just tired.

You glanced up when the footsteps stopped by you. It gave you pause- his armor looked like a storm trooper, but so very different. Scuffed, but layers of paint were placed in some places as if to rebrand himself, but the stark white armor always coming forward and revealing itself.

A deserter, perhaps?

It was the helmet that made it dawn on you- the shape of the visor. Whatever this man was, he was not a storm trooper, or at least you didn't think so.

A modulated sound came through his helmet. You blinked, making an apologetic sound, and he repeated himself. "A room, please?"

Please. As you nodded and turned to grab a card, something in you kneaded softly against your chest as you handed it to him.

A jolt shot through your hands as you felt the tip of his own hand, a smooth glove, brush your own skin. He was quiet, and only nodded and mumbled his thanks before leaving.

An unusual patron indeed.

You didn't see his face the first couple of nights. He would keep his helmet on, turned away from everyone. You heard stories of some Mandalorians being very private with their faces, and you heard him speaking mando'a over the comm system in his helmet, which looked vaugely Mandalorian from what you had seen.

He didn't walk like a Mandalorian though. He was broad, and treaded carefully. His head was level and his voice was soft. He didn't want attention called to him, even if it was hard to not notice him. The scuffed blue paint stood out to the reds, the metals, the browns and blacks that other folks who came through wore.

Your eyes always found the blue armor.

You rounded the corner, carrying the clean towels. You had a nice and folded stack, pausing on occasion to tuck one by each door. They were clean and still warm, but somewhat worn. Not that anyone minded- a clean towel was a luxury in this part of the galaxy. You hummed softly, kneeling down to set the towel neatly on the little table by the door.

It opened swiftly, making you step back in surprise. A sound caught in your throat and you nearly fell back, the towels tumbling from your arm.

A hand caught your arm and kept you from effectively smacking into the floor. You adjusted at the hold and looked up, gulping when the blue helmet tilted. After a moment of silence, he spoke- the first time you heard his voice since he checked in. "You okay?"

You nodded, pulling yourself back up. "Thank you." The grip had been quick and tight. Not that you minded. "Sorry." You leaned down to pick up the towels and start re-folding them.

He knelt down by you and helped. The motions were fluid and un-soldier-like, but he folded every towel crisply and easily, much quicker than you could. You watched as he turned, holding out the towels.

"I should apologize." He said, gently nudging the towels into your arms.

That was the extent of the conversation- He stepped away and moved down the hall, steps silent. The towels were warm in your hands, and felt softer than before if that was even possible. Your mind flitted to the possibility that, perhaps, he had not always been a mercenary, and that thought lived in your head through the remainder of your tasks.

[ariadnes-red-thread]

Love you and so grateful for your role in this community, Iris! 💙

Also still one of my favorite Fives stories 🥵🤩

A Lucky Hand - Fives x Fem!Reader

Crossposted on A03

Fives finds himself running low on credits during a game of pazaak with his favorite mechanic, but a risky wager on his end might end up benefitting both of you.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, Oral Sex (f/m receiving). Drinking, PiV intercourse, (let me know if I miss anything!)

***

“And I win another round! Come on Fives, at this rate you should just hand me all your credits,” You tease at the clone sitting across the table from you. Your smirk is met with a scowl that doesn’t reach his sparkling amber eyes. The 501st is on leave on Coruscant, and they’re one of your favorite clone battalions. You work as a mechanic at the military base where their barracks are, and once the war started up you got to know a bunch of the troops as they came through to ask for your help on any equipment they damaged on their last deployment. This is how you got to know Fives particularly well; if something could break, Fives would find the way to do it.

Keep reading

[deejadabbles]

Forbidden Blossom (Kix x Fem!Reader, Fantasy AU Part 2)

Part One || Part Two || Part Three Coming Soon

Summary: The tyrant king had never claimed to love you and you certainly held no affection for him. Thankfully, there was someone else who captured your heart. Rating: Gen (but minors DNI!) A.N: Listen....I'm just really obsessed with fantasy AUs right now, so I just had to continue what I created back during Halloween! As always, this got way out of hand and the continuation got too long, so this will be a 3 parter. Part 3 will be posted next week so I don't overwhelm anyone Word Count: 3,409 Warnings: Forced engagement, abusive relationships, implied physical abuse, life threats, and forbidden love. If you are concerned that this chapter's content might be triggering, please feel free to send me a message! I will do my best to answer any questions (without triggering language). That goes for all of my fics, I want everyone reading to be safe.

Masterlist /// Tag List Sign Up  /// AO3

The sheets felt like sandpaper, despite their silken weave, the air cold and stifling regardless of the fire and windows ajar. A prison, even though the doors were not locked.

You didn’t know what time of day it was, but the chamber maids had cleared out recently marking that it was some time before lunch, probably. That wouldn’t matter, you had barely eaten anything since you’d been dragged to the palace of the tyrant.

So, it almost surprised you when you heard voices outside your door. One voice was the captain of your guard, the man who, at least once a day, insisted that you eat something. The other voice was not one you recognized and that alone made you stir just a little under your duvet. Not just anyone was permitted into your chambers, let alone this close to your bedroom door.

“Oh gods, please- please don’t let it be him!”

But even as the heartstopping thought came to you, it was wiped away by the gentleness of the stranger's voice. There was no way the King you had met could sound so…

“There has to be something you can do, Kix.” That was Fox, a good man despite his stern frown.

There was a sigh from the stranger “I can try but….” a thought mulled over, carefully considered, “brother, I can’t heal a broken heart.”

“And why would you think- actually, never mind just…just do something, before he does something.”

The sound of retreating boots followed, along with another sigh a moment later. A heartbeat went by and you hoped the stranger had abandoned his assignment, that he would just leave you to your gilded cage, but then the doors to your bedroom opened.

You retreated further under your blankets, sinking into their plush warmth that still seemed so abrasive to your skin. Maybe if he thought you were asleep he would try again later. Yet again though, this mystery man surprised you. His steps towards your lavish bed were slow and careful, as if approaching a dragon’s nest.

“Your Highness?” he asked, voice quiet and soft. Highness, not Majesty, because you were not yet married to that evil man- thank the gods. “My Lady, I’m a doctor, I’ve been asked to see to your health.” His voice was closer now, right beside the head of your bed.

“I’m not sure there’s anything you can do, Doctor,” came your voice from under the fabric.

Another beat of silence, then, “Would you be willing to let me try, at least?”

You had no idea what or why, but something in his tone made you pull back the covers and peer up at him. He was handsome, devastatingly so, with finely styled hair, but the thing that drew you in most were his eyes. A rich brown color and holding a look that…it wasn’t pity. This was the first time a member of the palace had looked at you softly without pity and that alone kept you from ordering him out of your room.

He smiled then, as soft and kindly as his eyes when he reached out to your hand. “May I?”

Soft and considerate, this man was impressing you more by the minute. You nodded and held your palm up to him. Gently, he took your wrist and pressed his fingers to the soft skin there.

“Alright, your pulse is fine,” he hummed then, again slowly so you had time to stop him, he reached that hand to your forehead. His fingers were cool, like a refreshing damp cloth on a hot day, and it was all you could do not to lean into his touch. “No fever, either,” he continued thoughtfully. Then, after a moment he took his hand away, “May I ask you some questions?”

You nodded numbly, silently.

Instead of immediately asking this and that about your medical history, he instead walked over to your fireplace and grabbed one of the chairs. He brought it over to the bedside and sat with a little satisfied sigh.

“Tell me about your home.”

That caused you to blink, “Wh-what?”

His knowing smile didn’t falter, “Talk to me, My Lady. Tell me about where you grew up. What you loved most about it. The things that made you happy there.”

Your brows came together in confusion and you finally sat upright to meet his handsome eyes better. He didn’t repeat himself, just waited patiently. Despite the fact that his gaze never left your face, you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were in nothing but your thin night clothes. He was a doctor, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen exposed bodies before, but your sudden shyness prompted you to lift the blanket over your chest as you settled your back against the pillows.

“Well…” you started after clearing your throat. 

Where would you even start with his question? You missed everything about home, every tiny detail that stood in stark contrast to this place. You missed the sun coming in to shine over a room you decorated and filled yourself. You missed visiting the village and all who greeted you with a smile and a wave. Missed the late nights with friends and people you loved. And the people who loved you back.

That and so much more came to mind, but, you only had to think for a moment longer before a memory two weeks old came back to you. 

Nothing about this arranged marriage had pleased you, but you had at least tried to find some enjoyment in your first days here. Then you had taken a walk through the gardens and when even they did not spark joy, your emotions spiraled, landing you here, in your current state.

“I miss my gardens,” you said finally, staring off at nothing in particular. “They were so beautiful. So colorful and vibrant…. Not like the bare, minimal flower beds here.” You trailed off for a moment, pulling up fond memories from the depths of your mind and, for maybe the first time since you started your journey here, you smiled. A real, genuine smile. “There was one section where our gardener would let things get just a little overgrown,” a ghost of a laugh escaped you as you met the Doctor’s eyes again, “he said that it represented ‘wild beauty’ and somehow convinced my father to keep it. My loved ones and I set up a little tea area there and every afternoon we would go walking through the gardens and…just talk and laugh. Simple pleasures.”

The Doctor’s smile turned encouraging and your body turned to him fully. Before you knew it you were telling him stories, stories of you and your best friends racing through the flowers, of begging the bakers to let you help prepare the treats you’d stuff into baskets and carry out there. Stories of reenacting scenes from your favorite books like children playing pretend. He listened to it all, laughing along with you, asking questions here and there and encouraging you all the way.

You weren’t even sure how much time had passed before you realized that the weight that had been pressing on your chest for weeks felt…lighter now. Suddenly, the room wasn’t quite as suffocating as before. Maker, you even had the urge to pull back the curtains to let a little sunlight in.

The good doctor must have noticed your sudden silence, because he pulled his chair just a little closer to you. “Thank you, for sharing those stories with me, Your Highness.” He paused for a moment, seeming to think something over. “I know I’ve already asked a lot of you, but, could I ask one more thing?”

You couldn’t find it in yourself to even hesitate, you nodded silently.

“I would love to show you something, it’s a beautiful day and I think a walk would do you some good. Will you get dressed and meet with me?”

And there it was, he was still asking you, considering you, taking your wants into account. No one here had ever done that. Not truly.

“Yes, yes, I think that sounds nice.”

Those eyes of his brightened “Excellent! Take your time, I’ll tell Fox where to escort you.”

With that, he got up, pulled the chair back to its original spot and made for the door. Only now it was time for your own question, “Wait- Doctor! What’s your name? You didn’t give it earlier.”

For the first time, he looked surprised, “Kix, My Lady. You may call Kix.” He looked back at you with his hand on the doorknob. “I look forward to our walk, Your Highness.”

And with that, he- Kix, slipped out of the room. It was only then that you realized there was a small fluttering sensation in your stomach, something light and almost uneasy. Well, you hadn’t eaten much in so long, it must be that. You thought about indulging in one of the snack trays the maids left at your bedside, but the thought still didn’t quite appeal to you. 

Still, the fact that you could pull yourself out of bed and start putting thought into what you wanted to wear was a good improvement.

You did not call on your handmaids, the idea of being surrounded by people, of hands on your skin and in your hair, did not sit well at the moment. Despite that, and the fact that it was the first time in days you had come out of your room, It did not take that long to get ready and ask Fox to escort you to this mysterious location.

At first when you stepped outside the east wing, your heart dropped slightly, knowing that this was the way to the gardens that were a stark, depressing imitation of your lavish grounds back home. But, the gentle doctor was not waiting for you there. Yes, you had to walk through those almost sterile flowerbeds, but obviously this was not the intended meeting spot. 

You kept your eyes forward, not wanting to see the roses cut down to their stems so the thorns prickled in the sunlight, or how the lilies were cut free of any diverse or colorful petals, robbing them of unique beauty. At the edge of the overly pruned yard was a line of tall hedges and Fox led you past them. 

What lay beyond took your breath away.

It was an orchard teeming with life. Countless trees bearing fragrant fruit and vine covered trellises blooming with even more. All of them were well tended, cared for, but not overly cut like the flowers before. No, these were how nature should be, respected and loved and free to grow.

And there among it all, looking fondly at a patch of strawberries, was Kix. His smile rivaled the warmth of the sun as he noticed you standing there and he bowed his head slightly. “Your Highness, thank you for joining me.” Then he turned to Fox, “You can leave the Princess to me, Commander.”

In answer, the leader of your personal guard sighed, but turned to stand sentry by the hedge archway without protest. Kix waved his hand down the humble pathway between the trees, an invitation to walk with him. You did, gladly, and didn’t try to hide how in wonder you were of the orchard as you two began your walk.

“Hardly anyone but the gardeners come here,” Kix explained, “It took a long time for them to convince the King that over pruning is bad for the harvest, and that’s the only reason these plants and trees aren’t cut down to their stems. When you told those stories about your garden back home, I thought you might like it here.”

“It’s beautiful,” your tone was breathless, which obviously pleased him to no end, if that look in his eyes was any indication. “Thank you, Kix, this is wonderful.”

He opened his mouth, a response on the tip of his tongue, but then he hesitated. Instead, he walked over to the nearest tree, which just so happened to be bearing one of your favorite fruits, and plucked a ripe specimen from the branch. 

“I know that your situation isn’t an easy one, Princess,” he started as he walked back to you, “but if you ever need an ear to listen,” he took your hand and placed the fruit in your palm, “you just have to ask, and I’m yours.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you nearly gasped at his words and that’s when he suddenly looked a little flustered.

“My ear- my ear is yours, I mean.” He laughed nervously, then closed your fingers over the fruit, “What I’m trying to say is that, if you ever need a friend, I would be honored if you considered me one.”

It was hard to meet his gaze, not because you were embarrassed by his misstep in words, but because his promise made that fluttering sensation move to your chest as well as your stomach. This man, so full of kindness and care, he was making your heart feel light and heavy all at the same time. Maybe there was some joy to be found in this cage. You would take any you could get, so, you thanked the Doctor for his kind words.

“I would be the one honored to call you my friend, Kix.”

Something akin to surprise colored his eyes at that, surprise and something… tender. 

“Then, whenever you need to talk, or want a reminder of home, just call on me.” Then, Kix closed his eyes and lifted your clasped hand to his lips, pressing a light kiss to your fingers. 

It was that moment that your heart took flight. 

It was no wonder that, over the next months, the Princess and the Doctor would fall madly and deeply in love.

Your room had never quite felt like a home, always a golden cell, always a sign of your lost freedom, or the way you were chained to him. But it had never felt as cold and unforgiving as it did now. The fire was out, leaving you in icy darkness, all while the fiance you never chose towered over you.

“I asked you a question, girl: do you think I am a fool?” The tyrant king’s tone was flat and cold, even as you tried to choke back the tears from your spot on the floor. 

Even if you tried to get up, he would just force you back down again, so you answered him through gritted teeth. “No. You are no fool, Your Majesty.”

“Then why did you think I wouldn’t find out about this?” It was the first time something besides cold fury colored his tone. He was seething now. “Did you truly think I was so blind? That I wouldn’t see the longing stares or hear about your romantic walks?!”

You yelped when he grabbed your collar and yanked you onto your back.

“Did you truly think you could get away with making a fool of me?”

For all his cruelty, you had never seen him like this, his brutality had always been a cold and unfeeling blade, not this burning fire of rage. It was all there in his eye and bared teeth as he glared down at you and it made you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

Then, the harsh curl of his lips eased, teeth no longer bared, as he leaned back and stepped away from your prone form. He was regaining his composure before your eyes as he straightened and clasped his hands behind his back.

“Get up,” he commanded, tone like cold steel once again. “I want you to have a better seat when my men bring in the good doctor.”

That caused your heart to freeze in your chest. “No- no!” The desperate plea left you as you scrambled to your feet.

The King smiled in that cruel curl of his lips. “Yes, my dear. You will watch while I make an example of him. While I show him what happens to men who touch what’s mine.”

“Please!” Your voice cracked with the force of your words, “Please- I’m to blame, not him!”

His smile only grew with more you pleaded, “Which is exactly why I will hurt him instead.”

That vicious mirth in his eyes is what made you lose any last shred of resolve. Of course this was his plan, cold and calculated. Bruises could heal, but the memories of this? They would haunt you forever, and in the end he still got his meek pet for a queen.

“I gave you an order,” he went on, “I said get up-”

He was interrupted by the doors to your chambers being thrown open. In marched a company of the King’s most trusted guards, with Commander Fox, who had been ordered to wait outside, hot on their heels.

“Your Majesty,” the head of this company said with a bow, “my men are still searching the grounds, but it would appear that the traitor Kix has…escaped.”

Oh, the king did not like that. 

The fabric of his gloves strained as he clenched his fists, the knuckles surely white beneath. He drew in a harsh breath through his nose as he turned away from you without a second glance. 

“Find him. Search the whole kingdom if needed,” all the guards, save for Fox, followed their king as he stormed towards the doors, “if you have to bring him back here in pieces, do it!”

With that threat ringing in your ears, doors were slammed shut again, the sound echoing through the room like glass shattering on marble.

Silence swelled, filling the void the King’s rage left behind. Leaving you in the cold and the dark. In your cage draped in finery.

Gone. Kix was gone. He had escaped somehow. The thought sent a myriad of emotions washing through you, tearing and shredding your body in a confusing whirlwind. Before you knew it, you were curling in on yourself, fists clutching the fabric over your heart and tears staining your cheeks.

Harsh sobs wracked your body and you couldn’t say whether they were from the relief of knowing he was safe or the sorrow of knowing you would never see the love of your life again. Deep down, they were likely both, you supposed.

You jumped when something warm and heavy was draped around your shoulders. You hadn’t even noticed Fox kneeling beside you, blanket in hand. Somewhere, in the back of your mind you remembered telling him that the blanket was your favorite from home, but at the moment all you could do was pull it tighter around yourself as you tried to steady the painful breaths you were taking.

Fox, possibly the only other man who had ever shown you any care in this hellish castle, didn’t say a word as he waited for your body to tire itself out with its mourning. When it did, he silently helped you to your feet. You don’t remember walking to your bed, just that the blankets had been placed over you and the fireplace nearby had been stoked back to life.

Finally, your trusted guard spoke, a firm if still cautious call of your name. Your actual name, not a title. “Please,” he said in a whisper, “don’t do anything drastic. Things won’t be like this for much longer. I promise.”

Confused, you blinked up at him, but he didn’t say anything more, just bowed his head respectfully and closed the curtains of your bed slowly. If there had been any strength left in you, you might have called for him, asked him to stay close. To not leave you. You didn’t need to ask, however, you heard his boots stop just outside your bedroom. Standing sentry, acting as your shield, as much as he could in any case.

The patterns of the curtains danced from the crackling fire on the other side, but it was just a blank canvas to stare at as your mind ran the same thoughts in your head over and over again. He’s gone, Kix is gone. At best, you’ll never know true love’s touch again, at worst, you’ll see that love slaughtered for the crime of existing.

Still, even in your spiraling despair, one other mantra crept in here and there. 

“Things won’t be like this for much longer”

Divider by the amazing @dystopicjumpsuit

[threepandas]

After The War: Foxx Hunting (Prev <-)

"Commander."

On anyone else, the tone would suggest simple statement. But there was a lilt. A slight inflection, I had long learned to spot, at the end of the word. That made it a greeting. A call. Monotone filled with subtle, near untraceable mocking.

"Tired of running yet, Commander? Or do you want to struggle more? You can, if you want. I can let you. We have time. After all, it really won't change much. There's no where you can go."

Head tilted ever so slightly, at an almost an invisible angle. Posture, military perfect, impossibly so. That perfection bought with pain, torture, born out of brutal necessity. His lips quirked, in an amused curl. At just that same, impossibly slight amount. Too small and indistinct for his tormentors to notice. To take from him.

Just enough to stay human, I had thought. Too stay sane, I had hoped.

I was wrong.

My biggest mistake hunted me. Had all the power in the GALAXY now, to hunt me. All the time he could ever dream, in which to do so. And it was all my fault. Me. It had to be. I... I was the only thing that changed. Tried to make things... things BETTER!

How arrogant. Hubristic. Who the fuck was I? To think I had the RIGHT, to shape and change the fate of an entire GALAXY to my whims? I didn't even know the story. Had been GUESSING, based off STAR WARS. So... so fucking confident. A-and what did that get me? Oh god. O-Oh god!

The blaster burns on my arms and legs screamed, as I forced myself up, one more time. Always, please god, always! J-just one more time! Don't give out on me yet. Not.. not until we are safe. Then. Then! We can cry. Howl and weep, break down and scream.

(My fault. My Fault. MY FAUL-)

None of the characters were an exact match. People were and weren't where they should be. Plots happened out of sequence or not at all. So why? WHY? Did I believe so hard in the Clones? IS it because I loved, still LOVE, the Vode? Did that trust transfer? That emotional connection? Was I tricked? Or was I just a fool? Does it MATTER in the end? If the result is the same?

I brought a monster, straight to Power.

Now they're dead. All my brothers, my sisters, my mentors and friends. Dead, dead, DEAD! Glowing weapons on the ground and a temple filled with DEATH. D-Did the nurseries get out? Please, oh god, let the children have survived my mistake.

Blood stains my robes. Only a tiny fraction of it, is mine.

Sticky and slick, oily and so many colors. The blood does not mix. Too many species, too much ash from the air. If I do not clean or remove it soon? I am likely to get chemical burns, from the reactions developing on the cloth. But again and again. My mistake finds me. A pursuit predator. Intent on wearing me down.

"How long will you try, Commander? You know just as well as I do, that I can afford to wait you out. You'll drop eventually." His tone was so mild, even as his words were horrifying. Overhead, a transport kept steady pace, as I desperately ran from commandos on the streets. "How many days has it been without proper rest? Rations? To stop and think? We've survived far worse then this, Commander. For far longer. We can endure, can you?"

I pull my magic around me, through my screaming legs, to fling myself across a jump they shouldn't be able to make.

Despair surges, as behind me... I hear jetpacks. Ah. They've gotten better gear, at long last. E-Everything I've ever wished for them. Gear and food and safety, at long last! A-At long last. I have to laugh, hysterical and afraid. I just... I just never thought my wish? Would be fulfilled for the purpose of hunting me down.

(I'm so tired. Please, god. No more. Let it stop. Let this nightmare END!)

Jumping, I land in a roll on a level several floors down. The impact is ugly. Agony on my burns and bruises. I may have not taken any direct hits? But those glancing strikes? Still leave marks. Trails of seared, blistering, blaster burns. Like tiger strips. As though you hade been struck, by whip made of fire. Not to mention the concussion grenades.

Yeah, half way through the attack, the Clones had stumbled. Either broken free of the Not Sith's control or come to their senses, deciding to switch to non-lethal weapons. Probably trying to go for the capture instead of the kill. But given the sheer variety of the Knights? One Being's sedative was another's lethal toxin. And the gas attacks...

I... I'm still not even sure if... if Master Rim'Llahiy survived long enough, to get to the healers. The seizures were BAD. He... he didn't deserve that. All he'd ever done, was keep the gardens. Live a quite life. T...Try to defend his home.

Around me, as I run, screens light up. Somehow, I'm the focal point. I... I don't know how he's doing this. It has to be Sketch or Gear, one of the Slicers. Who else could hack into so many systems so easily? The... the knowledge that they're helping him? That everyone of the Guard is HELPING him hunt me? I feel sick.

Was any of it real? Was I friends with ANY of them? Or... Or was I just them happy little slave master, patting myself on the back, because I didn't beat them, unlike the others? Aren't I gracious. Don't you just love me? Say thank you for my grace. Let me feel good about my self! My pretty little charity of the day! Before I skip back off to fairy land! Leaving you all in hell.

Do I deserve this? I... I have to deserve this... right?

Even though I tried. Even though I fought and fought and FOUGHT. Even when that Not A Sith BASTARD tried to kill me at every turn, just to shut me the fuck up, and I WOULDN'T. Because they deserved to be free. Because it was WRONG. Because we took VOWS, remember? Days and days, convincing and campaigning.

I have to... to somehow, deserve this. Because? B-because if I DON'T?

Then What Have I DONE?

City levels and blocks blur together. I couldn't tell you where on this god forsaken ecumenopolis I am anymore. But the others! The others have gotten off planet by now. Surely... surely! They have escaped! Right? They HAVE too. I-It HAS to have been worth it. Becoming bait. M-making myself a target. This... this one last time?

It.. it was WORTH it. Right? Right?!

Please! Please god! Let it have been WORTH IT!!

I skid around a corner. Too tight, not judging it right in my panic, my shoulder clipping the wall hard. Scraping flesh through my robes. Just more bruises and hurt to add to the pile. I don't slow. Can't slow. Feel it but push the pain away. The crash later will be ugly, when I release the magics flowing through me. When the adrenaline fades. But... but either I will live to endure it? Or it will not matter at all.

Too late, though, I see the trap.

I have been corralled. Like a a sheep from my first life, harried by dogs into a pen. Tricked into a corner. No where left to go. The platform I thought was a street? Was an alley between two buildings, leading to a third. A perfect little killbox with only one way out. I stumble, horrified, as I register the truth too late. Spin, already knowing it's too late to double back. But hoping... HOPING....!

Jetpacks. The commando squadron of the guards, touching down at the entrance, a solid line of armor and skill. Better weapons, jet packs, upgraded armor. They... they even seem rested. For the first time in years.

A stark reversal. Now it is I, who is barely holding on. Now I am the one, who has been ground to dust, by the exhaustion of fighting without end. Of running and running. No real food and no real rest. No medicine. No help coming. I want to laugh, scream, weep. So it's to be poetic justice, is it?

But I can not give in.

Forgive me. But I can not, WILL NOT give in. Body exhausted, I draw my blade. The plasma humming as the magics charge. The alleyway fills with light. I took Vows. Owe my soul to the Galaxy and it's people. Regardless of Regime, I have service I must complete. And to do that? I have to be alive.

(I don't care, that they took over. Let them have it. But how could you? How COULD YOU?! The Temple was my home. I am a hypocrite. Here, at the end, I must face that. And now I know it to be true.)

The ship over head dips lower, kicking up a hurricane of wind. My robes whip around me, but I do not move from my opening stance. Ready, not ready, but resigned to it none the less. The Commandos are a silent wall as, from above, a rip cord descends. Clipped to it? Marshall Commander... no, Supreme Commander Foxx.

The Clones newly elected Emperor.

A man I THOUGHT was my friend.

He looked nothing like Commander Fox of the Vode. Hair too long and curling. Face deceptively young looking and boyish. Non regulation piercing hidden under the helmet all Guards wore, day in and day out. They hadn't been able to customize their armor like the others. So they customized themselves.

He wasn't in armor, now. It was somehow worse. The dress uniform an affront, a reminder, like a curse of broken glass. I... I hadn't even known he owned such a thing. It made sense, given his old position. Yet, somehow... somehow? I doubted this was the uniform he had been given. It looked... looked Regal.

"Are we done, now? Got it out of your system? Or should one of us put you on the ground first? Grind your face right against the filthy floor?"

His voice was mild as ever, as he calmly unclipped himself, let the cord retract. He tucked his hands behind his back. Strolled forward with measured steps, assessing eyes, like a general examining untested troops. Picking me apart for weakness, looking for openings in my stance. Injuries on my body. I had seen him do this before. Just... just never thought... it'd be used... a-against me. (How arrogant, I had been.)

"This can stop at any time, Commander. All you have to do? Is stop running. You don't have to worry anymore. I'm not going to hurt you. We're not going to hurt you. You've struggled long enough, don't you think? It's time to be done. To come home. Be taken care off. That's all we want to do, Darling. Commander."

"Surely you can see, that it's BETTER this way? No more war. No more Knights on sabotaged missions. Diplomats to war zones. Children where they shouldn't BE. The Order can be SAFE now. YOU can be safe now. Loved and precious as you always should have been. It's okay now, Commander. Come here. It's okay..."

Foxx's eyes blazed with conviction. They had been brown, like his brothers. They... oh god, they SHOULD have been brown. But as I stared into his face, at those unfamiliar eyes on what should be so familiar a form? Red stared back. The red, Red, RED, of the Fallen.

Foxx had been... had been Energy Sensitive. The Cloners had fucking LIED, when they said it wasn't possible. I had always suspected. Didn't dare bring attention to it. Didn't want my friend to be... to be KILLED. Experimented on. I should have trained him. Done more.

Desperate people will reach for anything, to stop themselves from drowning. And the Dark offers such tempting things. Vengeance and Power. Freedom, no matter the cost. It pays sweetly then corrupts slow. There is always a cost.

I can not risk it.

Shifting my weight to my front leg, in preparation to surge forward, I never get the chance. A two fold thwip! And sharp pinch in my upper arm. I got the first. But the second... a? Dart? No. NO! Panicked, I flood my body with the magics meant to purge drugs and... instantly the world spins. I have somehow just made it worse. W-what?

"Confiscated from slavers, 'bout five months back. It's a high end drug." The Commando with the dart gun said, as though commentingon the weather. "Fairly new, too. Made to react specifically to the Cosmic Energies. Our esteemed Chancellor, may he rot as he deserves, had them developed through several shell companies."

"Really wish you hadn't done that, Commander. Cause, see, the side effects? Are pretty nasty." Foxx commented. Various helmets nodded, the guards body language sympathetic but lacking any remorse. What ever it took to bring me in. To make me Safe.

"Now you're going to be sick for a while. But on the other hand? You are a stubborn one. So maybe this'll give you time to think, hmm? Time to enjoy the pampering a bit. You'll get used to it, learn to be good for me. I know you. You're a smart girl."

My legs couldn't hold me anymore. Despite struggling, I couldn't keep my blade at the ready. Helplessly, I watched as he watched forward. Used a single finger, on the hilt, to push my blade to the side. The lightest of tugs, stealing it from me entirely. At long last, the tears came. I... I was scared. Really, really scared. P-please... Foxx, please...

"Hunts over, Commander. It's time to stop running. You've lost."

"But, that? That's okay. You can lose now. Be weak. Wretched and pathetic and flawed. You don't have to be perfect any more, Commander. I've got you. You're Mine. Ours. Perfect, just the way you are. And today?"

"Today is the start of the rest of your new life, Commander."

"Welcome to the Empire."

[caprisun89bakerstreet]

How can I be guilty as sin?

Ch.2 - there’s no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk

୨⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯. ༊*·˚‧ੈ₊˚ ೃ࿐ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯୧

Series summary: the 5 times you almost told Obi-Wan about your feelings for him and the 1 time it slipped out

୨⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯. ༊*·˚‧ੈ₊˚ ೃ࿐ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯୧

“Master— it’s just- a scratch-“ Obi-Wan tried to vaguely reassure you both. “Nothing- to worry about—-“ He adds but his eyes are starting to close.

“Obi-Wan no!”

୨⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯. ༊*·˚‧ੈ₊˚ ೃ࿐ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯୧

Pairing: obi-wan kenobi x f!reader

Wordcount: 4,1k

Chapter summary: You're on a mission with your master Plo Koon, Qui Gon Jinn and your fellow padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi who your feelings for are increasing with each mission. But during this one, things go badly. He gets hurt. Badly. Can you do something to prevent him from dying? Or would it cost too much?

Tags: hurt/comfort, obi gets hurt, reader (recklessly) saves him from death, pre phantom menace, angst, you’re both padawans, masters realize you might have feelings for him, forbidden love

Notes: this was so hard but fun to write because i could include both qui gon and plo and they’re some of my fav jedi, it’s not perfect but oh well, i had a plan for it but it went in a completely other direction somehow anyways, enjoy

“Quick, seal the door!” Qui Gon called and you did as he instructed, sealing the door behind you with a slash of your lightsaber.

“Master he’s not here, he isn’t in any of these cells-“ Obi-Wan told him. When you turned around you see him pressing buttons on the control panel. The camera’s flashing through multiple prison cells.

“No, he has to be there!” You say determined and need to see it for yourself so you push past both men and look at the screen. Pressing buttons, desperately trying to find him. He wasn’t there.

“Dank farrik—“ You curse hitting the panel with your fist.

You were on the planet Raxus, protecting civilians from bounty hunters. But it quickly got out of hand the moment you and Obi-Wan decided it would be a good idea to follow them and try to negotiate. It appeared they weren’t interested in negotiations. Not civil ones anyway. Qui Gon and your master Plo had both realized where you’ve both gone fairly quickly. And proceeded to track down your location.

Meanwhile you and Obi-Wan had both overheard some of the bounty hunters about the long missing chief of the village. Which the civilians had known to be lost for 5 years, you recently found out.

“We’ll have to sort this out later, there’s droids incoming—“ Qui Gon warns you both and hear him ignite his saber. And within seconds you hear the familiar hum of your own saber and Obi-Wan’s before the door opens. And once again the room was filled by blasterbolts. Droids continued to enter shooting left and right.

“How did these bounty hunters even manage to get their hands on battle droids?” Obi-Wan questioned out loud as his saber pierced through a droid.

“I mean you could always ask them, the trade federation might just awnser—“ You tease, slashing your saber again .

“Well i don’t think they’d be very cooperative, do you?” He retorted matching your sarcasm as he beheaded another droid.

“Stop bickering you two—“ Qui Gon Jinn said while gutting the last droid. “Now tell me, where is the chief located?”

“Well they never actually told us, master.” You reply retracting your lightsaber and clipping it to your belt, looking at the camera’s again.

“We overheard them saying he’d be in sector 7. We presumed they were talking about the prisoner cells here, but that must’ve been code.” Obi-Wan thought to himself.

“It appears you’re right.” Qui Gon replied.

“Where’s master Plo?” You ask the older Jedi.

“He’s waiting outside. Now come on, let’s see if we can find him.“ Qui Gon tells you and Obi-Wan as you’re already heading out the door. But before leaving he stops you both. “— but let’s use our minds before going into this head first.” He warns you. ‘’Again.”

“Sorry master.” Obi-Wan says. And you look back at him, eyes meeting his.

“We will.” You add after a moment and then Qui Gon nods as the three of you walk out the building.

You had to get back to the ship. That’s the only plan you had as you watched the village go up in flames. How could this have happened? How hadn’t you forseen something as terrible as this? There’s too much going on around you to focus on these thoughts as you deflect blasterbolts firing at you from practicaly every direction. With a furrowed brow you’re trying to stay focused while more battle droids keep coming in.

“Why are they still coming?” You yell not understanding just how many droids they’ve managed to get on their hands without the trade federation or the senate knowing. As far as the Jedi knew.

“Getting tired already?” Obi-Wan teased from a few feet away. Despite the sweat forming between his brow and his endeavors with you earlier, he still had precise movements. If you weren’t being shot at right now you would’ve silently admired his strength. But you quickly forget the thought when a blasterbolt nearly grazes your cheek and brings you back to the present.

“Quick! Get to the ship!” Master Plo called as he managed to get rid of two droids. He was closer to the ship then you were. But he was still only halfway there.

“Easier said then done master!” You called back because there were even more droids incoming from left and right- you were being crammed. If you turned away now, you’d surely get hit. There’s too much blasterfire.

Slowly you, Obi-Wan and Qui Gon retreated back to the ship. But it was terribly slow. And your focus was starting to wear thin, your movements getting less precise, sloppy. You were sweating, blocking less blasterbolts than you needed to to save your energy. Trying to focus on reciprocrating the bolts to get rid of the droids instead of wasting the shots. And you managed to. Until one grazed your left-upper arm. And you wince. “Kriff—“

Obi-Wan called out your name as soon as he heard you. “Are you alright?”

“Yes— I’m fine-“ you reply from a few feet away and continue to block the incoming fire. It hurt terribly. A burning heat was flaring on your left bicep. You were just lucky it wasn’t your right, and you weren’t ready to lose that now.

“We’re almost there!” Qui Gon called from your right. He looked tired too, you realized in a quick glance. This wasn’t going well.

But then you felt a disruption in the Force. A warning. You prepared yourself as anticipation and adrenaline filled you before you could register what was about to happen. You focused on the droids infront of you— worried that there might be another wave of them, or worse, what if those bounty hunters came back? But then you heard a cry out in pain to your left. Your left. Obi-Wan. And your body fills with panic as you see him.

“Obi-Wan!” You yell when you see him crumble to the ground a few feet away from you. And without thinking you rush over to him, barely avoiding two— no three blasterbolts, as you stand infront of him. Jumping over the debris of the city. And you block the shots firing at you when you’re standing infront of obi. Quickly the distance between you two diminishes.

Qui Gon called your name when he saw you recklessly change plans. Because of Obi-Wan. He tried to get closer. He needed to get you both out of here as soon as possible. The droids were closing in on you. And you were losing.

“Obi-Wan talk to me—“ You say your voice worried and insistant. Because if you looked at him right now you’d surely be too distracted to not get hit.

You hear another wince from behind you on the ground. Which only created a pit of worry in your stumach and you risk a glance at him. He was clutching his side.

“I’m fine— it’s fine nothing- to worry about—“ he said with heavy breath which you practically didn’t hear because you were still in the heat of battle. You did catch his last words. Which told you enough about his state, he was anything but fine.

You risk another glance at him but then see his side, he was bleeding. He’d been shot. And you saw too much blood for your liking in that one glimpse. “Qui Gon!” You call for his master, worry filling your voice because you couldn’t do anything to help him while you were still being fired at. But within a few moments that seemingly stretched out for eternity, Qui Gon was at Obi-Wan’s side.

“Master he’s bleeding— really badly—“ You start to panic and Qui Gon can tell.

“I need you to cover for me while i carry him to the ship. We have to hurry.” He says as he tries to carefully lift Obi up in his arms and he winces in pain. Your heart breaks at the sound.

“Yes master. I’m ready.” You respond more confident than you felt right now.

“Now, run!” He gave the signal. But you barely manage to block the firing at you and another bolt grazes your shoulder and you wince.

If you didn’t hold yourself up now, both Qui Gon and Obi-Wan would get shot. And die. You couldn’t let that happen. But the increasing burning sensation in your right shoulder made lifting anything feel like fire was bursting through your veins. And it hurt. It hurt so much. Like the brightest flaming red was the color of your insides and you almost felt yourself getting lightheaded. We’re you going to faint? No. You weren’t. You couldn’t let them die. Not like this. Not them.

“Master—“ You plead your steps slowing down without you wanting to, and Qui Gon seemed to realize just how worn out you were. This was it. He had pushed you both too far. He turned around and stayed behind you as you kept blocking the blasterfire coming your way. Keeping Obi-Wan secure in his arms, head against his shoulder, and his eyes were closed already. He really should’ve been better. For the both of you.

That’s when suddenly droid after droid gets blown to pieces as laserbolts fill the sky and you hear the familiar hum of your ships engines. Matser Plo. He made it to the ship early. And relief fills your body and you send a wave of gratitude through the Force. You knew you were too weak to reach him but it’d be a silent prayer anyway. Because you could really use a miracle right now.

“Come on, hurry!” Qui Gon said as you kept running away, the droids distracted by the new threat You were able to escape. Barely. But Plo managed to get you out there just in time as he flies to the atmosphere.

You still heard blasterfire in the distance as Qui Gon eventually stopped and carefully placed Obi down. He’s still breathing heavily and and whinces uncomfortably.

“Obi-Wan I need you to move your arm.” Qui Gon said because Obi was still clutching his side. As soon as you saw his pained expression you kneel down next to him and reach for his face. Cupping his cheeks in your hands. This couldn’t be it. You wouldn’t let it come that far. His eyes were glazed and he seemed too distant for your liking when you looked into those blue eyes. Which almost seemed to lose more color by the minute.

“Obi come on— i know it hurts- but you have to..” You gently but worriedly encourage him. His eyes flicker up to meet yours and he weakly calls your name.

Qui Gon then removed his arm to reveal the blood covering his chest. Obi grunts in pain and you try to sooth him removing his hair from his face and caressing his cheeks. But he was bleeding. A lot.

“Master— it’s just- a scratch-“ Obi-Wan tried to vaguely reassure you both. “Nothing- to worry about—-“ He adds but his eyes are starting to close.

“Obi-Wan no!” You say, still holding his face and trying to get him to look at you. Panic is coursing through your veins. He was losing conciousness. He wasn’t going to die, you knew that. It was Obi-Wan he’s seen way worse than this. This couldn’t be how he died. You felt worry take over your entire being. Thoughts going haywire as you hold his face. And then you’re on autopilot. You weren’t thinking. You were following your instincts now. The only thought you had was, heal. You needed to heal him. Right now. Even if you didn’t know how- or weren’t able to- and didn’t have the supplies- or abilities— you simply had to. Obi-Wan was losing conciousness. Because he was covered in blood. He was suffering. Obi-Wan was suffering. And you physically couldn’t stand it. So you reach for his tunic to reveal his wound.

Qui Gon noticed you were on autopilot. He couldn’t blame you, it’s not like he wasn’t himself moments earlier when you both ran away from those droids. But there was another kind of determination in you as he saw you cradle Obi-Wan. You were determined in a dangerous way. No, a selfless one. He had seen you grow up being gentle and often timid. But once either master Plo, himself or Obi-Wan were in danger, your whole demeanor changed. You were protective. Not in a selfish way, but a selfless one. You’d do anything to keep them safe. To keep them alive. In the earlier years of you being a padawan this change in you during missions surprised many. And over the years both master Plo and Qui Gon himself started to see more of this determined side of you. Because you were often facing dangers on missions. But one of you getting as severely hurt as Obi-Wan rarely happened. He looked at you now as you got rid of his tunic. You were a healer. Or taking classes, at least. But you weren’t proficient. You were a student. It took great effort, training and discipline to have the ability to heal another’s wounds. Especially ones this deep. But he knew you were talented though, being one of the youngest in class. But your determination might have been stronger than your skills in this moment. Qui Gon knew your healing capability wouldn’t be enough to save him. Not right now.

“He needs medic supplies.” Qui Gon says seeing the way your hands tremble as you reach for Obi’s bleeding chest. And Qui Gon reaches for his comm to send your coordinates to master Plo.

“We don’t have that right now—“ you say, your voice betraying your increasing concern. And you place your hands carefully on his chest, next to the wound bleeding a sickly, gushing red. “Obi hang in there please-“ you whisper a silent prayer and close your eyes. Reaching out to the Force and call on the light you feel starting to spread in your fingertips. Creating that familiar tingling feeling.

“Padawan—“ Qui Gon tries to warn you, seeing your body shaking from adrenaline and exhaustion, and your shoulder still bleeding. But you knew your wounds weren’t as bad as Obi’s.

“Quiet.” You tell him. And stubbornly keep going. Or as you liked to call it, selflessly.

___

After a few moments you hear the ship’s engines as it lands a few feet next to you.

“I need you to help me lift him up carefully-“ Qui Gon tells you and you help him, probably being more careful than you had to be.

Noticing obi’s expression turn pained you feel your stumach twist. And run off to get the medical supplies.

“Padawan, what happened—“ master Plo starts off but when he sees Qui Gon carrying Obi, who’s chest is covered in blood it sinks in. But you had always pushed past your master to get in the ship.

You were on auto pilot. Hands trembling and trying to keep a clear head. You were a Jedi. You were good at saving people. Especially vulnerable ones. It’s what you did. But why did it feel like you were losing grip on it? You were losing control- normally you’re able to help people- stay focused and keep a somewhat clear head as you went out your way to save people. But now? Now you were fueled by adrenaline and worry. Because you couldn’t lose your best friend. Not when he meant so much more.

Rummaging through the ship’s storage bins to get something— anything that might help you start to panic. None of this was gonna work if we didn’t have the supplies— if we didn’t that meant he would still be in pain- hurting- bleeding out— no. You wouldn’t let it come that far. Somehow. You rush back to Obi’s cot with some spare bacta packs. Qui Gon had already cut open his tunic. You rip open the bacta packs but Qui Gon stops you. Quickly stopping your wrist.

“Padawan. It’s too deep to heal from just those.”

“I don’t care—“ You hear yourself saying as you continue.

“Padawan-“

“I’ll do it myself! I’ll heal him!” You say desperate but determined. You had never treaten someone this badly before. You felt awfully unsure about everything right now. And you hated it. Panic started to spiral through your core. How were you gonna do that?

Your hands moved on their own, trying to position them just next to the wound without making Obi-Wan visibly squirm in pain. You’ve never had to heal someone with wounds as bad as this. Let alone someone so close to you. Someone as important as him. Not that you were allowed to think that way, you were a jedi after all. No attachments. And yet, seeing Obi in pain like this made your whole body betray you. You feel as if getting an adrenaline rush from being in the most dangerous situation you’ve ever been. And Qui Gon knows. Yet doesn’t say anything. And doesn’t stop you.

You place your hands on Obi-Wan’s chest, around the wounds and close your eyes. “Come on Obi..” you mutter nervously. Because he can’t die. Not like this. Not today. So you focus on the Force flowing around you, feeling Obi-Wan’s life Force weaken by the moment. Panick starts to rise on your chest again. But then you focus on you. The Force flowing through your body, your veins, your entire being. And you focus on your hands. Feeling a lighter and tingly feeling spread in them. And you let it flow to him. Into his chest. You felt the throbbinh pain in his chest affecting his entire body. Oh no. That’s bad. Really bad. You focus on sending the Force to his most crucial areas. But you even felt your own chest starting hurt. He wasn’t going to make it. Not like this. You needed a miracle. No. You didn’t. You just needed willpower. And determination. Because you weren’t gonna let Obi-Wan die. Your brow started to sweat as you send all your energy through him. Not that you noticed, you were too focused on saving him. Your best friend. Though that term seemed to feel more odd than usual right now. You were in a trance trying to save Obi-Wan. So you send everything through him. All of your energy. Even if it wasn’t enough. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you didn’t try.

Qui Gon was still sitting next to you. He tried to call your name. Because he saw your trembling hands, furrowed brow, and focused demeanor despite being exhausted. But he also saw the color in your cheeks fade away. You were draining yourself. To a dangerous extent. Qui Gon placed a hand on your arm. But you weren’t noticing any of his attempts to get your attention. Obi-Wan was all that mattered right now. But you felt his force presence slipping away. And Qui Gon could tell Obi’s breathing had slowed down. Too much. And after a few moments he couldn’t tell if he was breathing anymore…

But your breathing started to get heavier, you started to feel lighter, seeing flashes behind your eyelids. You had to save Obi. So you send all of your Life Force to him. All of it. And before you knew it, you didn’t feel your hands trembling anymore. You didn’t hear your own thoughts anymore. And your head hurt. Feeling dizzy. Then there was simply nothing.

Qui Gon was too late to catch you when your head hit the ground as you fell over. You looked pale. Sickly. Drained. Qui Gon placed a hand on your forehead, worried. He tried to call your name, to wake you up. Was this it? Had you finally crossed your limit? When he focused on your force presence he felt nothing. Nothing. His heart sank in his chest. How could he have let this happen? He was supposed to protect Obi-Wan. And you. You were both just padawans. Now he lost both of you. Because of your own selflessness. He rummaged through the medical supplies spread around the floor. Until he heard a whimper. Obi-Wan. His eyes were still closed but he was breathing. Obi-Wan was breathing. When he looked at the wound, it still looked awful. As if nothing happened. But as Qui Gon looked at the deep gash he saw that it wasn’t gushing red anymore. It darkened. It partially healed. The worst part of the wound had closed, you had done it. You saved Obi-Wan. Qui Gon quickly tried to help Obi-Wan with the little supplies left.

Master Plo eventually entered the cabin and his expression fell. He had felt your Force presence starting to weaken when he was still in the cockpit. But when he saw you laying on the floor, motionless, next to an unconscious Obi-Wan who was still covered in blood his entire galaxy shifted for a moment. He had failed. As a master. He kneeled down beside you. You had always been stubborn, pushing yourself to no extent when it came to protecting the ones close to you. Or not. You had always tried to save everyone. No matter the cost of your own well being. And ofcours, when it came to Obi-Wan that willingness tenfolded somehow. Your friendship with him had always been a blessing. Or a curse when it came to you focussing on your jedi teachings. But to see the both of you laying unconscious on the floor deeply wounded your jedi master. And he prayed you would arrive on Lianna as quickly as possible to get enough medical supplies.

---

When Obi-Wan woke, everything hurt. He felt incredibly sore. But made the mistake of shifting in bed when he opened his eyes. Because a pain shot through his chest. What happened? He looked around the room he was in. Not recognizing it. Then it started to get back to him slowly. They were on the battlefield. Wait they were fighting— he quickly tried to look around the room and lean on his elbows to get up but it hurt. But it didn’t matter he needed to know—

“Easy Obi-Wan- lay back down.” Qui Gon’s voice. And a moment later he appeared next to Obi-Wan. Until he realized Qui Gon had been sitting in one of the chairs behind him.

“Master what-“ Obi started with a strained voice but cut himself off when he saw another bed in the room. With you in it. And his eyes widened.

Qui Gon helped him get back in bed carefully. “We made it out. Thanks to you. We’re on the planet Lianna because we were in need of medical supplies. You got shot. It was messy.” Obi-Wan tried to focus on Qui Gon’s words. But all he could do was stare at you. What had happened? He remembered you being fine. You were the one who protected him and got him out-

“Is she alright?” Obi-Wan blurted out worried. And Qui Gon sighed as he sat on the edge of his bed.

“She will be.” He spoke after a moment. And Obi-Wan felt his heart drop.

“What happened? She was okay when-“ Obi asked not caring how his chest hurt every time he used his voice.

“She was. Until you were bleeding out. She healed you. Even though i told her to stop because it was draining her life force. You’re alive because of her.”

“She—-“ Obi-Wan started but didn’t know how to continue. You had saved him? He got hurt so badly you had to save him? How had he been that careless? Because now you were hurt. You were unconcious because of him. Because of his recklessness and inability to stay focused. He felt guilt rising in his chest.

Qui Gon could sense Obi-Wan’s anxiety rising and placed a comforting hand on his arm.

“She’ll be alright Obi-Wan. She just needs rest. As do you.”

“Has she- woken up yet?” Obi-Wan couldn’t help but ask. But he saw Qui Gon shake his head. And an uneasy feeling washed over Obi-Wan.

He didn’t argue when Qui Gon helped him back down in bed. He was too tired to do so anyway. But his gaze was still on you.

“Rest Obi-Wan.” Qui Gon told him again, and left the room. But Obi-Wan stayed awake as he looked at you with a feeling of guilt, worry and something he can’t allow himself to feel. Especially not with you.

He only closed his eyes when his body demanded sleep. But he still dreamed of her. He always does.

And only a few feet away she still lay unconcious in that same room. But even though she seemed to be unreachable, in more ways than one, she was dreaming too. Dreaming of him. She supposed she always would.

[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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[miraclecherryblossomsblog]

Anakin as you bf

Sum random ass headcanons I CRAVE for this man (pls I beg more of I BEG)

Tw: might be bit ooc since I'm still learning about him but rn he screams all of this for me, just fluff

-He a tease, gets worse once you guys finally get together.

-Can see him whispering sweet nothings in your ear or just blows air just to see you shiver outta nowhere

Making you blush is part of his hobby now. He just adores it when get shy with him. Look away all you want but he gon make sure to see that precious face of your heat up 🫠

-likes to rest his head on your lap whenever he feels stuffs too much for him. Like he'll flop down infront of you and let his head flop on your thighs, letting his body finally relax after a long day.

PLEASE play with his hair too he finds it so soothing he could just knock out right there 😭 💕💕💕

-Tries to keep things on the low cuz....jedi rules and stuff, but just like in the movies and shows he failed miserably cuz he basically can't keep his hands to himself 😭💀💀💀

He touchstarved ok?! Cut him sum slack, not his fault u make him wanna squish you at every opportunity possible

Cuteness aggression. Beware once yall out of sight of anyone he gonna pounce on you for cuddles, unless he got stuff to do he is NOT moving good fucking luck lol

-Don't let him know your ticklish. DO NOT LET HIM FIND OUT IT WILL BE YOU DAMN END,

will sometimes poke on your sides when u least expect it cuz he just finds it so cute seeing squeak in surprise. Scold him for it all you like that just makes him wanna do it more 😫

-Gives you the softest look when you talk to him, you may talking about the weirdest shi but my guy here smiling like a goof as he just wonders how was he so lucky to have you

ngl sometimes he would just be so busy looking at you to the point you blabbing becomes a background noise, is not that he doesn't listen it's just that he a simp and can't help to just look at you a dream of having a life together the both of you

__________________________________________

A/N: pls ask me for more parts rn cuz I wanna ramble on him sm I JUST WANT HIM TO BE HAPPY FFS 😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏🙏

[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.