#get wr3ckered’s oc

[get-wr3ckered]

| Cuyan- (Mandalorian!OC) |

Summary: Iliana awakens in unfamiliar surroundings, and a familiar face delivers grim news.

Warnings: Angst?, SW cursing, canon-typical violence, mentions of injury and blood, panic, mentions of child death.

Wordcount: 1600+

Notes:

At this point, I'm just bending the SW timeline to my will. If timeline inconsistencies aren't your thing then I apologise in advance but it all makes sense to me in the grand scheme of Iliana's plot.

Eventual oc x Omega (parental relationship obviously) 

Any Mando'a will be translated at the end. 

I think I've added all the appropriate warnings and tags but if I've missed something or tagged it incorrectly feel free to let me know and I'll fix it asap!

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

-Chapter Two: A Familiar Face-

Pain. Red hot, searing agony. It was the first sensation her slowly waking mind became cognisant of. Through the slowly lifting haze of unconsciousness, Iliana couldn't focus on much else aside from the deep-seated burning that tugged at the base of her ribcage, a feeling akin to having a hot poker plunged into her flesh repeatedly setting her every nerve aflame.

With every passing second small fragments of her faculties returned and with them so came her ability to comprehend each and every ache and pain that her mind had blocked out during her sleepless rest. The twinge of overworked muscles, the ache of joints having been overextended without reprieve, the tenderness of new and old bruises festering upon her skin. All were not sensations new to Iliana and yet they assaulted her dulled senses simultaneously and without mercy.

Then came the familiar sensation of bandages wound taught over fresh wounds. The telltale tugging of haphazard stitches that forced torn skin back together. Signs of rudimentary aid intended to keep her alive littered her battered body. As the last fragments of awareness slotted back into place, the dam holding back a tidal wave of memories finally crumbled.

Bombs falling. Blaster fire raining down on civilians and warriors alike. Her father wheezing out his final breath. Each shard of memory was more gutwrenching than the last as they battled it out for the forefront spot in her hazy mind.

Her eyes remained screwed shut and yet Iliana could see with terrifying clarity the falling debris, could feel wave after wave of aftershock. She could taste the rising bile in her throat as she clung to the tiny, motionless hand peeking out from beneath the shattered remnants of the nursery.

With unimpeded clarity Iliana Byrnne could remember the fall of Mandalore.

Despite the pain thrumming within the confines of her skull, Iliana forced her eyes open to find a worn wooden ceiling staring down at her. Pushing herself up with her left arm, the right being restrained and bound across her chest, the young woman attempted to force herself upright to no avail. The movement brought about new waves of pain, each expanse of her lungs set the raw flesh along her abdomen ablaze once more, muscles tensing and spasming against the small exertion.

Her throat felt raw, and painfully dry as a hacking cough tore through her chest. The metallic tang of blood danced mockingly along her tongue as she tried and failed to force oxygen into her protesting lungs.

Over the loud coughs tearing through her, Iliana barely recognised the throwing open of a door, or the shuffling of feet. It was only when a hand came to rest upon her shoulder did she comprehend that was no longer alone.

Agony be damned, Iliana wrenched herself from the foreign touch, hasty movements throwing her from atop the rickety table she'd been laid upon and onto the floor with a harsh thump. She scrambled for her weapon, the knife kept within her vambrace, only to come up empty, the icy realisation that she had been stripped of her armour washing over her.

Breath quickening, panic closing its jagged claws around her heart, Iliana grappled with her aching limbs in a bid to push herself away from the stranger, forcing her broken body into the corner of the room in a vain attempt to gather some feeble sense of defence. Without her armour, without her weapons and in her weakened state liana had all the defensive capabilities of a newborn.

"Easy," A gentle voice tried to soothe, drawing the frantic searching of Iliana's eyes to focus on the kneeling twilek woman who'd come to kneel an arm's length in front of her. The woman's face bore the gentlest of smiles as her hand slowly moved to extend a carafe of water out to Iliana. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The woman's words brought little comfort, actions eliciting only suspicion from Iliana. In a single jolting movement she smacked the offered drink from the twilek's hand before shuffling impossibly closer to the walls at her back.

In spite of Iliana's actions, the woman's smile never faltered. Instead, the twilek slowly moved away, offering Iliana the space she couldn't put between them alone.

With slow, deliberate steps, the woman moved back toward the door she'd come through, a gentle offering to go get more water slipping past her lips as she went.

Alone once again, Iliana scoured her surroundings for something, anything.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

"She's awake."

Those two short words sent a flood of relief through Rex's veins. He may not have known the Mandalorian well, if at all given the small handful of short conversations they'd shared, but that didn't diminish the weight that her survival had lifted from his shoulders. He had refused to lose anyone else so soon regardless of how minimal their connection to one another was. He didn't think his already bruised heart could've withstood another strike.

"Good," Cut breathed out, eyes shifting to the two shallow graves that had been dug in the passing days. Jek and Shaeeah sat by the foot of them, quietly braiding together flower crowns to adorn the poorly erected wooden markers. "How's she doing?"

Suu let out a dejected sigh. "Wary, she did not care for the pain she caused herself in trying to get as far from me as she could."

"It's to be expected," Cut tried to reassure his wife, hand raising to rub soothing circles between her shoulder blades. "Maker only knows what she's been through to get here."

The man's words rang true but offered little comfort. The news of Mandalore's falling had spread quickly, reaching eve the most remote corners of the galaxy. The three of them could only begin to guess what the woman had been forced to endure.

"Perhaps a familiar face would help ease her?" Suu glanced toward a silent Rex.

A beat of silence washed over them. After a moment of contemplation, Rex pushed a hand through his hair and forced himself to stand. The possibility of clones playing a role in the decimation of Mandalore remained uncertain to him, the chance his presence may cause more harm than good tauntingly circled within his mind. "Maybe."

Cut and Suu watched, each wearing their own looks of concern, as the former captain stalked off toward the very barn he himself had once been sheltered within.

Approaching the barn's side door with tentative, almost cautious steps, Rex's knuckles rapped against the worn wood in slow succession. Barging in unannounced would do no good, he knew as much and so he waited for some form of response no matter how minute it may be.

A crash came from within, the sound seeping out through the slivers of space between the door and its frame. A pained grunt followed shortly after, only to be muffled far too quickly- as if it had been forcibly stifled in a bid to hide it.

Waiting for an invitation was thrown out of the proverbial window. His Mandalorian acquaintance hadn't been in any condition to be moving the last he saw her. For all Rex knew she could've torn her stitches and be bleeding out as he waited, he wasn't about to let anything of the sort happen.

Slamming his entire weight against the door, the rusted hinges protesting loudly, the old door gave way all too easily, swinging open from the force and smacking harshly against the adjoining wall. Boots scuffing against the ground, Rex all but dived through the open doorway, moving to the fallen woman's side as she lay motionless beside the now broken table. He didn't offer the splintered wood a second glance as he gingerly placed his hand on her shoulder.

That had been his first mistake.

A sudden harsh blow struck him in the side of the head. A broken leg from the table, his dazed mind realised as his body slumped down beside the not-so-motionless Mandalorian. Rex's limbs refused to move, senses numbed by the unexpected hit.

Then came his second mistake.

The weight of his blaster disappeared from its place within its holster. Pressure against his chest, over the very spot where his heart resided within was all the confirmation he needed that his own weapon had been turned on him. His senses returned to him, the predicament sobering in a way and he forced his open palms up slowly in surrender.

Rex met Iliana Byrrne's gaze, a storm of molten rage swirling amongst the dulled vermillion of her irises. It was the look of a woman with nothing left to lose, sympathy swelled in his chest despite the weapon so intently trained upon him.

"Easy Soldier," Rex saw the spark of recognition as he spoke but his words did nothing to soften the heated glare boring into him. Her finger flexed around the trigger for a singular moment before the pressure lifted ever so slightly. "'m not gonna hurt you, just wanna help."

Iliana didn't relinquish her hold on his blaster but she did pull it back, still pointed his way but no longer directly over his heart. Voice raw, the brunette bit out a response. "Not like you could."

There was a tense silence as Iliana inspected the blaster in her grasp. Then the four walls around them. Finally, her sharp gaze settled on Rex once more.

"Where are the foundlings?" Her finger twitched over the trigger once more, a warning hanging unspoken over them. "Where the kriff are my foundlings?"

Four words. Four measly little words were all it took to shatter the warrior's resolve. Four words and her facade of strength fizzled out.

"They didn't make it."

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

Additional Notes: Not proofread, I refuse to suffer my mistakes alone. Mando'a: Cuyan- survivor Taglist: Feel free to drop me a message to be added to the taglist!

[snippy-tano]

Late Night Pastries

This wasn’t a request, but since it’s my birthday today, I thought this would be fun! I’ve been working on a few requests, but have been mostly working on a long OC fic that’s been taking up a lot of my creative energy and time. I will work on requests when I have time! Promise!

masterlist is here!

taglist is here!

tagging: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life; @marvel-starwars-nerd; @mackstrut; @dissapointingpancake; @ahsokatano-thetogruta; @welcometothepedroverse; @padawancat97; @fractiouskat; @mandaloriandin; @badbatch-simp24; @katelynnwrites; @s1st3r; @leotatombs; @torchbearerkyle; @the-navistar-carol; @bombshe77; @arctrooper69; @social-mockingbird; @littlebluebatbrat; @get-wr3ckered; @flowered-bicycles; @idoubleswearimawriter; @lucyysthings; @dangraccoon

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

It was late aboard the Resolute and it was quiet in the medbay where you were currently organizing the new supplies that had just arrived. 

The medbay was mostly empty of troopers and those that were there were sleeping soundly in the back of the large room. So you took the peace and quiet for what it was and enjoyed the time to yourself. You listened to the soft sounds of the machines and the hum of the ship beneath your feet as you counted out the supplies and marked it on the datapad beside you.

You were halfway through the crate of bandages when the door to the medbay opened. You turned in time to see Echo walk in, his hands clasped behind his back. It was a surprise to see him, especially this late, but he was your closest friend. It had been an easy transition for the two of you to go from acquaintances to best friends, in fact, it was the easiest thing in the world.

Echo was everything to you. And you were pretty sure he felt the same way about you. 

A smile spread across your face as he approached. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

Echo shrugged. “I figured I’d find you here. Are you ever going to say no to a nightshift?” 

You chuckled lightly. “They aren’t my favorite, but I’m not going to turn someone down if they ask to switch shifts. Anything I can help you with? You don’t look injured.”

“Oh no, I’m fine.” Echo said. “But I do have a reason for stopping by. Do you know what time it is?”

Your eyes narrowed as you turned and looked at the chronometer on the wall. “Uhh, it’s just after one. Why? Have I missed something?”

Echo looked smug as he smiled softly before shifting his hands from behind it back to reveal a small pastry with a single candle on top. 

“Echo, what is this?” 

He chuckled. “Only you would be so focused that you forget your own birthday.” 

Realization dawned on you as you let out a sigh that turned into a laugh. “Only you would remember my birthday when I totally forgot. Thank you.” 

He shook his head before pulling out a small lighter and lighting the candle. “Just blow out the candle and make a wish.” 

You gave him another look before closing your eyes, a wish finding its way into your mind before you released it to the galaxy, hoping that maybe it’ll come true. Your eyes opened and you leaned forward, quickly blowing out the candle.

Echo smiled at you and you felt your stomach twist as your face warmed, averting your eyes. “Here, let me clear this space and we can share that.” 

“I got this for you. You don’t have to share it.” Echo protested and you gave him a shove as you quickly cleared off the small table in the medbay.

“I know. Which means I can share it with whoever I want.” 

Echo let out a sigh, but didn’t protest further as he set the small pastry on the table. He pulled out the candle as you found two small forks that were wrapped in plastic from you and your fellow medic’s trip to the mess hall. You pulled out a chair, taking a seat as Echo did the same, setting down his helmet. You passed him a fork and he took it with a smile. 

You placed a hand on his arm, giving it a squeeze. “Thank you Echo.” 

He rested his hand on yours. “Happy Birthday, cyare.” 

There were the warm fuzzies again. You gave him another smile before raising your fork in the air. Echo smiled back as he clinked his fork against yours. 

The medbay was quiet around you, save for your quiet conversation with your heads ducked together. The pastry was delicious and Echo refused to give up how he’d managed to find it. But wherever it was, it was amazing and despite the late hour, it was probably the best birthday you’d ever had.

[seriowan]

! MARCH EXHIBIT MASTERPOST !

here is a more in-depth introduction post with monthly themes/submission rules/ and more!

purpose: to provide a safe & positive platform for star wars oc creators. this gallery is here to encourage others to be creative and confident in their ocs & to also provide community. remember, every oc is different. every oc is unique. every oc is special. every oc is valued.

! spreading positivity is appreciated; reblogging is encouraged !

note: while there aren't many submissions this first time around, my hope is that this event will gain a bit more traction so that more oc creators fill out the submission form for next month's theme! — also, to those who submitted but do not see your submissions up in this exhibit, your ocs didn't quite fit the theme of the month but don't worry! they've been saved so that they can be added to the proper upcoming themes ☺️

JEDI

Bel-Eliel Jensei (@elismor) None of Us Perfect (fic)

Sa’dyra Secla (@echos-girlfriend) General info link Latest info dump

Orion Tenebris (@moonlight-sonata99) Orion (art)

Rina Caska (@l-lend) Meditation (oc x wrecker fic) Days Like This (oc x wrecker fic) Playing House (oc x wrecker fic)

Talia Riva (@baba-fett) Illicit Affairs (oc x rex fic)

Kiana and Kiho Umaki (@seriowan) Art and drabble info dump

Kei'Ara Agri (@get-wr3ckered) Biography

SITH

Zaiya Valessa (@kimageddon) A Prince of Dathomir (oc x darth maul fic)

REBELS

no submissions ☹️

IMPERIALS

Agent Eliix (@agenteliix) (old republic chiss oc) A Kept Secret: Prologue (fic) Break the Ice (fic) Agent Ellix (art)

Lt. Kaeso Blithe (@blithe-imperial-underling) Biography/Info Post

exhibit masterpost taglist: @kimageddon @elismor @dnxgma @wizardofrozz @fives-lover @lucyysthings @babygirlrex0504 @starborncyare

(join the taglist to be added to the monthly exhibit posts where everyone's ocs will be on display! — please reblog to signal boost and get this event out there!)

please don't be afraid to DM me privately or anonymously slide into my ask box for any questions/comments/concerns!

SUBMISSIONS ARE OPEN FOR THE APRIL THEME (CLONES AND DROIDS - could be separatist droids or astromechs or tiny mechs) — REFER TO THE INTRODUCTION POST FOR MORE INFORMATION AND THIS SUBMISSION FORM IF YOU'RE READY TO SUBMIT !!

CLONE/DROID SUBMISSIONS ARE OPEN UNTIL APRIL 15th!

[dangraccoon]

Hiatus Update! 💛

I feel the need to better explain my hiatus a little because I kind feel like I just disappeared, so I’m going to tag my list on the end of this so I know most people will be in the know (sorry it’s not an update 😖)

So basically between my regular job and preparation for my summer job I didn’t have a lot of downtime and was basically writing, editing, and posting chapters all in one or two days and it was getting to be exhausting. I’m still very happy with the work I put out and proud that I was able to do it, but I know it wasn’t sustainable. I love writing and the little community I’m becoming a part of here, so I didn’t want to burn out.

That being said, my summer job is a HECTIC one. If you’ve ever been on a summer camp staff, you know what I mean. Basically I’m working from the moment I wake up to the moment I go back to my quarters. I only have 1 night off a week (usually spent going to the store/getting real food) and then 24 hours off between sessions.

So I’m hopeful that I will be able to get back to posting soon (but I may change my schedule to posting once a week instead of twice, and I’ll likely only be posting for Oyuba’din!)

TL;DR - adulting be crazy; probably gonna be posting once a week over the summer; I love you guys!

Tags: @writing-positivelyexisting @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @get-wr3ckered @flowered-bicycles @jediknightjana @idoubleswearimawriter @lucyysthings @error6gendernotfound @unstable-kiwi @highlylunar

For sticking with me through the post, here’s a little snippet from Oyuba’din: Chapter 18! featuring yet another OC

Khawa’s laughter echoed throughout the medical bay, and they wiped away a stray tear that leaked from their eye. “Did- did he really just pick you up like that?”

Jaine rolled her eyes, but couldn’t stop the fond smile that grew across her face. “Yep. Just hucked me over his shoulder like it was nothing.”

“Bet you hated that, huh?” Khawa nudged her arm, winking conspiratorially.

“Oh, no. No, not you too!” Jaine collapsed dramatically, her face to the small table between them.

“So Sinya thinks you have a thing for the sargeant too then,” they laughed.

“Yes,” she groaned.

Khawa gently patted the back of Jaine’s head. “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but as long as you’re on Coruscant, Sinya will be trying to get you two to hook up.”

“I know,” she lamented. “It’s just not going to happen. And besides, I’m pretty sure he hates me.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” Khawa whispered, lightly tapping Jaine’s arm.

I love you guys! 💛🤟

Dang

[dangraccoon]

Oh my goodness thanks for the tag!!

not this post having me reveal what Jaine Vale looks like

I mean honestly it’s fine; I have a post in my drafts with images of all of my OCs up to this point lmao I just don’t want to post it yet because it has characters y’all haven’t met yet

No pressure tags: @get-wr3ckered @highlylunar @error6gendernotfound @writing-positivelyexisting

I'm bored, so I decided to make another tag game

The last image of a fictional character or person you have is who you find amidst a zombie apocalypse

Here's mine:

Meryl Streep lmao 💀

Tagging: @solaxena @rachi-roo @gonerogue98-official @a-vegemite-addict-from-australia @1tsdanny @clumsyracconking @rae-main @duckymcdoorknob @veenxys @stardustkujo @thecryingbox @haikyuuublog and anyone who wants to join! <3

[get-wr3ckered]

| Cuyan- (Mandalorian!OC) |

Summary: As the purge of Mandalore wages on around her, Iliana Byrnne desperately searches for her clan's foundlings. Warnings: Angst? SW cursing, canon-typical violence, mentions of injury and blood, an allusion to child death, purge of Mandalore.

Wordcount: 500+

Notes:

The timeline for this fic is a little ambiguous, I'm not 100% sure of the exact timeframe between order 66, the Mandalorian purge and Rex + the batch going to Saleucami.

Eventual oc x Omega (parental relationship)

Any Mando'a will be translated at the end.

I think I've added all the appropriate warnings and tags but if I've missed something or tagged it incorrectly feel free to let me know and I'll fix it asap!

Masterlist

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

-Prologue: Mandalore, lost-

Smoke invaded Iliana's lungs, its talons digging into her chest and tearing at the flesh. The flicker of flames reflected off of her vizor, rubble shifting underfoot as she ran blindly. Her home was crumbling around her and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.

'The foundlings,' Her mind cried out with every step she took toward the nursery. She prayed, begging the gods not to let her be too late. 'I have to get to the foundlings!'

Every step was agonising and yet Iliana refused to let herself falter. The blaster shot to her abdomen, one of many wounds that had bloomed among the gaps in her armour burned incessantly, her every move pulling at the raw flesh and drawing fresh blood from between the wound's jagged edges.

She had watched too many of her brethren be gunned down. she'd played witness to too many full-fledged warriors falling right alongside the planet she cherished. If they could not stand against the onslaught, if they could fall so easily then what chance did the foundlings have?

Feet scuffing against debris, Iliana all but threw herself through the nursery doorway. Achingly she lifted her arm, bracing herself on the doorframe with her vambrace as the light on her helmet flickered to life.

Iliana's breath stalled within her throat, the sight before her threatening to stamp out the already dwindling flame that was her hope.

The ceiling had caved in, and broken fragments of duracrete lay strewn over the area where she'd once watched the foundlings play. The shattered glass that had once made up the windows littered the room. The nursery had been decimated.

And then her gaze caught something amongst the rubble. Something so small, so still. Her knees buckled, falling from under her as a sob tore through her throat.

A tiny, lifeless hand.

"NO!" Scrambling forward Iliana fought feebly to move the duracrete, her weakened state rendering the action useless. "Haar'chak."

"C-Cabur?" A meek voice called from the shadows, barely audible over the rumbling of more bombs dropping in the distance.

Iliana's head swivelled, surveying the room desperately. As if the gods had heard her pleas, there tucked into an alcove that had miraculously outlasted the waves of aftershock stood two foundlings, hands clasped together soot and dust clinging to their skin as tears carved a path down their cheeks.

Clambering over the rubble, Iliana fell at their sides in an instant. Reaching up, she cradled their cheeks carefully in her gloved palms. Checking them over seemed futile, a waste of precious time that none of them had and yet she did so anyway, fortunate to find nothing life-threatening upon either of their small forms.

Willfully ignorant of the ache in her muscles and swallowing down the pained grunt that rose like bile in her throat, Iliana lifted the two children into her arms. "I'm gonna get you out of here adike, I swear it. I won't let anything happen to either of you."

Burying their faces in the crook of her neck was the only response Iliana received as her feet moved once more. She tightened her hold on them, pushing herself to move faster. She intended to keep her promise to them, even if it took her dying breath to do so.

If only the universe had been on Iliana's side.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

Mando'a: Cuyan- survivor, Haar'chak- damn it, Cabur- guardian/ protector, Adike (plural of Ad'ika)- little ones Taglist:

Feel free to drop me a message to be added to the taglist!

[get-wr3ckered]

|Cuyan- (Mandalorian!OC) Prompt Piece|

Prompt: "You look... different. Hair cut?" "I lost an arm." "I know. The haircut thing was a farce. I just didn't want to be rude. But since you brought it up, what the hell happened to you?" Credit for the prompt goes to @prompts-in-a-barrel

Summary: A simple job for Cid goes very wrong. Warnings: Severe injury, loss of limb, mentions of blood/gore, SW cursing, canon-typical violence. Wordcount: 700+

Notes:

Any Mando'a will be translated at the end.  

I think I've added all the appropriate warnings and tags but if I've missed something or tagged it incorrectly feel free to let me know and I'll fix it asap! Masterlist Iliana's oc information

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

'It's simple enough,' Cid had insisted. 'A quick in and out job,' the Trandoshan had shrugged off Iliana's scepticism.

Nabbing data from an abandoned outpost, the Batch could do that in their sleep. It wasn't some new, wild task they'd be embarking on. In comparison to half of what they'd faced, it was a rather rudimentary job.

Or at least it would've been if the outpost in question had actually been abandoned.

Arriving at the outpost only to be met with nothing shy of a small army of scrappers setting up demolition charges had been less than ideal. The pointed look Iliana had thrown Tech's way hadn't gone amiss. Had several dozen blasters not been aimed their way, she wouldn't have bitten back a bitter remark about him having brushed off her intuition back on the ship.

When the firefight began the Batch had been forced to separate, breaking off from one another in order to find cover. Omega and Iliana had lost sight of the others, the pair having taken up position behind a rundown terminal as they laid down their own barrage of fire. They'd held their own well, Omega grinning despite the situation as she'd landed several shots with her new energy bow while Iliana had fired off her phase rifle in quick succession and with all the skill of a seasoned warrior.

The scrappers' numbers had been dropping steadily, offering the pair all the evidence they'd needed to know the boys had been holding their own just as well as they had. Things were looking up and with only a handful of scrappers left it was all but certain that they'd have the outpost in hand soon enough. And then the charges were blown.

If the scrappers couldn't have it, then nobody could.

The 'how' of their escape was lost to Iliana. A vague blur of falling rubble, Omega being shoved ahead and the painfully obvious lack of movement in Iliana's lower arm was really all the Mandalorian could make out. She couldn't recall when they'd made it to a rocky outcrop, using it for cover as the remnants of the outpost shifted and they waited for the smoke to clear. Even as Omega tore up her jacket, tying the shredded fabric around the elder's arm, or lack thereof, in a bid to stifle the bleeding until the Batch found them, Iliana only vaguely recognised that the lower half of her left arm was missing.

"Echo! Wrecker!" Omega had jumped up from her spot beside Iliana, waving erratically at the two figures breaking through the smoke. "We've gotta get Illy back to the Marauder!"

With hurried steps, the two clones had joined the girl's side in an instant. Wrecker was tasked with checking the youngest of the group over, listening eagerly as Omega animatedly rattled off the tale of their daring escape, explaining almost too quickly how their Mandalorian companion had been pinned and resorted to hacking off her own arm to ensure Omega made it out. All the while Echo had taken to assessing Omega's attempts at binding Iliana's open wound, only half listening as the young girl recounted how 'awesome' their escape had been.

They'd be having a talk about their definitions of 'awesome' once things had settled down, that was for sure.

"Easy," Echo had mumbled as he helped Iliana up. leaning a majority of her weight against his side. A pained grunt fell past the woman's lips at the movement, and Echo silently cursed Hunter and Tech for not being quicker at bringing the ship around.

"You look... different," He'd posed, in a feeble attempt to distract the brunette from the incoming waves of pain. "Haircut?"

A near-indecipherable snort escaped her despite the pain as the ship came into view. "I lost an arm."

It astounded Echo how deadpan Iliana could be regardless of the downright agony she had to be in. As the Marauder landed a little ways ahead of them, he eased her forward taking on as much of her weight as he could, shaking his head at her blasé attitude to losing a limb.

"I know. The haircut thing was a farce. I just didn't want to be rude," He admitted with a barely there upturn pulling at the corner of his lips. It quickly fell to worry once again. "But since you brought it up, what the kriff happened to you?"

Cue Omega's overly excited rendition of events, the sequel.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

Additional Notes: I'm not 100% satisfied with this so I may revisit it later, but using a prompt was a fun exercise to get the ol' writer juices flowing. (ew, why did I phrase it like that) Not proofread, I refuse to suffer my mistakes alone. Mando'a: Cuyan- survivor Taglist: Feel free to drop me a message to be added to the taglist!

[get-wr3ckered]

|Cuyan- (Mandalorian!OC) |

Summary: A ship crashlands too close to Cut and Suu's farm for comfort, Rex and Cut investigate.

Warnings: injury and blood, mentions of child death, mentions of the Mandalorian purge.

Wordcount: 800+

Notes:

The timeline's a little ambiguous seeing as I'm not 100% sure of the exact timeframe between Order 66, the Mandalorian purge and Rex & the Batch going to Saleucami.

Eventual oc x Omega (parental relationship obviously) 

Any Mando'a will be translated at the end. 

I think I've added all the appropriate warnings and tags but if I've missed something or tagged it incorrectly feel free to let me know and I'll fix it asap!

Masterlist

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

-Chapter one: Saleucami-

"Mom! Dad!" The panicked voices of Jek and Shaeeah carried over the breeze, and the patter of their hurried feet scuffing along the dirt had the two's parents rising from their seats instantaneously. Rex wasn't far behind, blaster in hand as Suu reached for her rifle.

Darting out of the small home, their eyes searched in tandem for the cause of the children's alarm but found nought. Cut and Suu dropped to their knees checking their little ones over quickly. Rex's guard didn't waiver, all that had occurred in the days prior had left his mind in a state of hypervigilance- a need to see what was coming before it arrived growing in the shadow that the loss of so many of his brothers had cast.

"What's wrong?" Cut urged, one hand cupping Jek's cheek tenderly.

"Are you alright?" Suu mirrored her husband's actions and held her daughter close.

"A Ship," Shaeeah muttered, eyes wide and voice wavering as she spoke. Jek raised his hand, pointing towards a small but growing billow of smoke in the distance. "It looked broken!"

Cut and Rex exchanged a silent glance at the young girl's words. Given all that had occurred, assuming that a ship crashlanding so close to be little more than a coincidence wasn't a luxury any of them could afford. The odds of who or whatever was aboard the ship being friend over foe were non-existent in Rex's mind, and from their shared look it was clear that Cut held similar thoughts on the matter.

"Suu, take the kids inside," Cut grunted as he pushed himself back to his full height, taking the rifle from his wife's grasp.

The Twilek woman nodded wordlessly, quickly ushering the children back toward what little safety the farmhouse could offer.

"Best find them 'fore they find us," The clone turned farmer muttered.

Rex offered a lone nod. "I'm with you."

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

How the ship had made it through Saleucami's atmosphere without combusting was nothing short of a miracle. Between the mass of mangled metal and the shattered transparisteel, it would have been all too easy to see the wreckage as nothing more than a pile of discarded scrap rather than a once functioning vessel. The growing pool of fuel beneath the ship and the near-constant barrage of sparks escaping from amongst the broken plates that made up the hull didn't inspire confidence in either clone that the ship would stay stable for much longer, although stable was a term to be used very loosely at current.

Rex didn't doubt that even the most desperate of Scrappers would give the wreckage before them an extremely wide berth.

"Don't suppose anyone survived the landing, do ya?" Cut cocked a mirthless brow.

Rex only wished it could be that easy. "Can't leave it to chance."

With careful, deliberate steps the two men dared to venture inwards. Gaining access to the damaged vessel had been simple enough, the cargo ramp's integrity had been compromised and with the right leverage, the pair had pried it open all too easily. What awaited them within the small interior, neither man could've anticipated.

There, curled up beneath the remnants of the control panel lay three bodies. The larger of the three, clad in an eerily familiar armour, held the smaller two protectively, the uncomfortable contortion of her limbs proof enough that she had been trying to protect them.

Crouching low, Rex assed the fallen three solemnly. The blank stares and limp limbs of the two children told him all he needed to know. Neither were any older than Jek or Shaeeah and yet they lay lifelessly before the two clones, Cut forced himself to look away.

Rex too averted his gaze from the children, there was nothing he could do for either of them.

His focus shifted to the woman, recognition flickering as he eyed the familiar crest painted upon her left pauldron. Supporting the unresponsive woman's neck as best he could, Rex pulled the helmet free tossing it aside with little care as he moved to press two fingers against the side of her throat. He waited, counting each second with bated breath before he felt it, weak and slow but it was there. "She's got a pulse."

Those four little words were enough to stir Cut to action. Kneeling beside Rex, the pair did their best to support her properly as they pulled her from beneath the control panel. It didn't take a genius to see the recognition hidden within Rex's solemn expression. "You know her?"

A near-silent sigh fell past the other man's lips. "Not really, fought alongside the boys and I once."

The way Rex spoke, The whistful tone made it seem like it'd been a lifetime ago but in reality, it had been far closer to the present than it truly felt. So much had happened since the 501st had helped in freeing Mandalore from Maul's grasp, none of it good.

"Right," Cut readjusted his grip on the not-quite stranger. He dared a glance at the fallen children, swallowing the bile that threatened to rise as he did so. "Let's get 'em out of here before this thing blows."

A solemn nod was Rex's only reply.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

Additional Notes: Not proofread, I refuse to suffer my mistakes alone. Mando'a: Cuyan- survivor Taglist: Feel free to drop me a message to be added to the taglist!

[get-wr3ckered]

| Antipodal- (Wrecker x Jedi!oc) |

Summary: Kei'ara and Wolffe have one last spar, and Master Plo greets the Batch upon their arrival. Warnings: none I don't think?

Wordcount: 750+

Notes:

This is pre-Echo to begin with (but don't worry he's a-comin')

I think I've added all the appropriate warnings and tags but if I've missed something or tagged it incorrectly feel free to let me know and I'll fix it asap!

Beautiful dividers by @eloquentmoon

-One-

Chests heaving in near synchronicity neither party showed any sign that they would yield anytime soon.

Despite the thick blindfold that blocked her vision Kei'ara Agri moved with grace and precision as though she could see all the same. Hands bound behind her back, she jumped atop a moving platform with ease. A grin split her lips at the subtle sound of her opponent letting out a dissatisfied grunt at her evasive manoeuvre.

Below her, clad in that telltale plastoid armour stood Commander Wolffe, training blaster in hand. Aiming once again he fired another series of stun rounds in a vane attempt to hit the newly knighted Jedi to no avail. Regardless of the scoff that escaped the confines of his throat as she evaded his attack once again, Wolffe had a similar grin of his own dancing on his lips beneath his bucket, a prideful glint in his eyes at Kei'ara's successful moves.

"How long have they been at it?" Boost Asked, settling between Sinker and Comet on the observation deck.

Comet shrugged in response. He hadn't been there from the beginning, only having joined Sinker after stumbling across him in his search for the Commanders- or more accurately their Commander and the new General. It still felt a little odd addressing Kei'ara as General rather than Commander but regardless he, and the entirety of the 104th, was proud of their vod'ika's accomplishment.

"Fifty-three minutes," Sinker enlightened his brothers without shifting his focus in the slightest. "Wolffe's got her on the ropes."

Boost snickered. His reason for coming to the observation deck is long forgotten now. "That's what you said last time and Kei'ara still won, vod."

"First time for everything," Comet hummed, leaning forward against the railing.

Completely consumed by the ongoing spar, all three troopers were oblivious to their comms flashing one after the other.

Plo Koon let out yet another quiet sigh.

He should have seen this coming really- this wasn't the first time something like this had happened. Having to wrangle the boy of the 104th out of the observation deck to tend to their duties was an all too common occurrence for the Kel Dorian. Finding his wolfpack tucked away in the cramped space, bets flying as they watched their Commanders sparing sessions had become something of a tradition for them.

His boy's inability to not get distracted was perhaps something he should have expected. Surrendering to the knowledge that his men wouldn't be answering their comms anytime soon, the Jedi Master turned to the small cluster of clones to his left in quiet defeat. "It seems we'll have to go to them instead Sergeant."

The Sergeant in question nodded, wordlessly telling the other three members of his squad to follow the General. Toothpick shifting between his lips, one of the men went to no doubt grumble earning himself a look warning from the Sergeant as they moved. Swallowing his remark with a roll of his eyes, the trooper followed his squad and the General in silent dislike.

"My apologies," Master Plo offered as he led them through the facility. "I should have foreseen General Agri being late for your arrival, I do hope you won't hold it against her, though I suspect there is little chance of such regardless of my words."

"Of course, General," Hunter nodded.

A few more turns passed before the Kel Dorian came to a halt at one of the many clone training rooms. The door slid open with a muted hiss to reveal a session seemingly underway. Neither participant offer the newcomers so much as a glance, not that the female's blindfolded state would have allowed for such anyways.

"Commander Wolffe," Plo Koon called out, drawing the clone's attention to himself. "Might I interrupt your spar for a moment?"

"Of course, General," The Commander responded dutifully, holstering the blaster quickly.

As the two spoke, the Commander's sparring partner made quick work of scaling her way back down from the hovering platform she had been perched upon. Despite her clear impediments, she jumped from platform to platform with ease, steps unwavering as she went. Landing back on solid ground with grace, the woman was quick to shrug off her binds and pull the blindfold free.

"Master Plo," A gentle smile pulled at her pale lips. Looking past the Kel Dorian to inspect the four clones behind him, her smile only seemed to grow. "You've brought guests."

"Yes," He nodded, stepping aside and gesturing toward the small squad that accompanied him. "Allow me to introduce Clone Force 99."

Taglist:

Feel free to drop me a message if you want to be added to the taglist!

[get-wr3ckered]

Gotta be somebody by Nickleback is high-key Iliana’s theme song, I don’t make the rules. (Yes I do)

[get-wr3ckered]

Antipodal - oc information

The title's pretty self-explanatory but here is the info sheet for my (very first) SWTCW / TBB OC. I may come back and add to this from time to time but for those interested, all her info is under the cut!

(Created using this picrew by @malachitinous. I saw someone else use this for their oc's and thought they were stunning so I had to try it out for myself. I can't remember their tag for the life of me but as soon as it comes back to me I'll be sure to tag them.)

Name: Kei'Ara Agri (pronunciation: kay-ah-ruh ah-gree)

Age: 23

Planet of Origin: Dathomir

Pronouns: She/ Her

Sexuality: Unlabeled

Personality: She’s reserved, always taking a moment to think things through, whether that be her actions and the consequences that will follow or her words and the effect they could have on others. Compassion comes easy to her, a deep-rooted respect for all lifeforms having been imbedded into her very being by her former master. She holds a great deal of care for the clones who fight for the Republic, and those specifically who fight by her side. Despite her kindness, and her considerable lack of temper, Kei’ara has the capacity to be lethal- much to her chagrin- when those she holds dear are threatened, she abhors violence but when needs must she can hold her own against some of the galaxy's deadlier components. 

Position: Jedi Knight, General of the Galactic Army of the Republic.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

Additional notes: Did I make a Nightsister oc because I've recently finished Fallen Order for the umpteenth time and adore Merrin? Yes, Yes I have. That and I thoroughly enjoyed Ventress and her storyline in Clone Wars. Honestly, I just love Dathomir as a whole so this is purely self indulgent.

[get-wr3ckered]

Cuyan- OC Information

Here's the info sheet for my new SWTCW / TBB oc. I may come back and add to this from time to time but for those interested, all her info is under the cut!

(Once again created using this picrew by @malachitinous.)

Name: Iliana Byrnne Age: 27 Planet of Origin: Mandalore Pronouns: She/ her Sexuality: Bisexual Personality: Iliana is a headstrong individual, raised to be self-sufficient, to rely on no one but herself and those within clan Byrnne. Trust had never been something she'd given freely, but after the Purge gaining her trust was akin to drawing blood from a stone. Iliana had always been quick to anger, her temper acting as a shield of sorts, becoming a tool to keep others at arm's length and keep her facade of strength from wavering. Despite her cold- some would 'confrontational' was the more apt word for it- demeanour, Iliana's loyalty put that of a loth-wolfs to shame. When it came to those who'd managed to weasel their way through her defences, a feat more easily achieved by children, Iliana would place their well-being leagues above her own. She cares deeply in her own way, a way only those closest to her could truly understand. Positions: Mandalorian warrior, former foundling instructor, bounty hunter/ mercenary

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

Additional notes: Just finished rewatching The Mandalorian for the 37th time and the foundling Omega brain rot is back and better than ever so here we are. I completely suck at describing personalities so I apologise for the shit show anyone reading this had to bear witness too!

[get-wr3ckered]

Antipodal- (Wrecker x Jedi!oc)

It's adoring my oc hours and so I give to thee...

Backstory tidbits:

Kei'ara's mother didn't agree with how Mother Talzin led the Nightsisters or the methods she taught in regard to their connection with the Force. Upon learning of her pregnancy, Kei'ara's mother fled Dathomir in search of a better life for her unborn child than what being under Mother Talzin's thumb would have allowed for.

Kei'ara spent the first four years of her life on Dantooine, a small Dantari tribe having welcomed her mother openly and allowed her to reside and work among them.

Kei'ara first showed signs of her Force sensitivity when she was two, her mother did her best to hide it. When Kei'ara was four her connection to the force was too hard to conceal and with her mother's refusal to teach her the ways of the Nightsisters, the Jedi were sought out for help.

At age fifteen Kei’ara underwent and passed the Initiate Trials, earning herself the title of Padawan, and becoming the apprentice to Master Plo Koon. 

Much like her master Kei'ara mastered the Shien lightsaber form. Her lightsaber is purple and she primarily wields it in her left hand. (she's ambidextrous)

When the clone wars began and Plo Koon and herself were assigned the 104th battalion, Kei'ara quickly developed a soft spot for them. The wolfpack came to regard her as their sister after she repeatedly put herself at risk to protect them.

After proving herself during an especially dire rescue operation- the taxing mission having acted as her Jedi Trial- Kei'ara earned the title of Jedi Knight. With the growing need for both more Generals and soldiers alike, Kei'ara was quickly assigned her own clone troops.

Pre-TBB tidbits:

Away from the battlefield, Kei’ara exclusively addresses Wolffe as ori'vod (big brother) despite technically being older than him. Side note- it started as a joke and just kinda stuck.

Kei'ara exclusively listens to rock and heavy metal music in her, albeit limited, downtime. Her taste in music being the polar opposite of her quiet personality lowkey freaked Boost out a little when he came across her listening to it one day.

She once accidentally called Plo Koon 'dad' and the Wolfpack refuse to let her live it down.

During her early padawan years, someone made a derogatory comment about Kei'ara being Dathomirian. The comment went right over her head and she had to ask her master what it meant. After that Plo Koon made sure to teach Kei'ara about Dathomir, the Nightsisters and her culture as best he could.

She somehow always makes the best caf even though she uses the same caf machine as everyone else. The 104th are convinced she's adding something to it other than sweetener but are too scared to ask at this point. There's a bet going that it's some kind of drug. (Hint: it isn't, she just adds the tiniest splash of creamer.)

Kei'ara owns several items of clothing that perfectly match the armour of the 104th. One of her favourite pieces has to be the hair ribbon that Warthog gave her for one of her birthdays, it can be often found braided into her hair.

Honestly, I could go on and on but there has to be a line drawn somewhere right?