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arctrooper69 · 7 months ago

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Hello! I love your stories. Could I request a Drabble about Wrecker being a body guard for a Princess trope? She likes him but he doesn’t think she does. And if it fits “Can you lock the door please?” From your prompt list. Thanks!

Hello friend! I'm so so so sorry that it's taken so long for me to get this out to you! I've been sitting on this for probably about a year now. So sorry! Also... it turned into a full-blown 12 page fic instead of a drabble. Hope you enjoy!!!! 😂❤️🫂

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The Princess and the Wrecking Ball

Wrecker x Princess!Reader

Warnings: Loss due to wartime, small mention of blood. Mostly just some cute hurt/comfort 🥰

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"Really Hunter?" complained Wrecker, "A princess?"

Hunter frowned and nodded. "Yes. Just for a few days." He looked around at the others for confirmation and they simply nodded.

"Why do you seem to be the only one that has a problem with this?" Hunter gestured to his brother with thinly veiled frustration. He'd never seen Wrecker this adverse to a mission before. Even when it required rappelling from treacherous heights.

"Because last time he met a princess he fell head over heels for her and she hated his guts." Crosshair spoke evenly as he sat on his bunk, cleaning his rifle.

Hunter frowned, looking back at Wrecker. "Is that what this is about?"

Wrecker looked down, shrugging nervously. He rubbed the back of his head. "I just don't like Princesses, okay? They think they're all that and then they look at you with those pretty eyes and you think you've got a chance, and you think they really like you and then they realize that you're a clone and call you a stupid, ugly mistake."

The group was silent.

Hunter cleared his throat, "Well, you don't have to get along with her. We're just supposed to transport her safely back to her uncle on Coruscant."

Wrecker crossed his arms, frowning, "Why do we gotta do it?"

"She's in danger, Wrecker." Echo explained, "and it's a favor for Senator Amidala."

"Why can't she do it?"

"She's a senator. She can't exactly sneak into Separatist territory."

"Besides," Hunter added, "The princess' uncle has offered us a lot of money to get her safely to him."

Crosshair looked up. "You mean, we're actually getting paid this time?"

"But - " protested Wrecker.

Hunter looked at him sharply. "We're going to get that princess and you're going to treat it just like another mission. That's an order. Got it?"

Wrecker groaned, "Yeah Sarge, I got it."

"Good. I don't want to hear another word about it from you."

"Do I at least get to blow something up?"

"We'll see."

Wrecker grumbled under his breath. Hunter narrowed his eyes at him but didn't say anything else.

"Well..." Tech spoke up, "Now that that's settled, I'm making a list of everything we need to requisition."

Tech held the datapad out to Echo. He looked over the list.

"I can't think of anything else."

"What about the princess?" Wrecker asked suddenly.

Crosshair sighed, "Here we go again..."

"Hey! I'm just tryin' to be helpful!"

Hunter closed his eyes, "What about her, Wrecker."

"Well uh.... Won't she need things too?"

Tech looked up, "I have included rations for an extra passenger on the way back. That will not be an issue."

Wrecker shifted awkwardly. "Yeah but... What about... women things?"

Crosshair choked on his caf.

Tech blinked, “What women things?”

Wrecker shrugged, “I saw some ad on Coruscant for it once. I don’t remember what it’s called. Think it happens like on a full moon or something, every couple rotations?"

Tech lowered the datapad in his hand to stare at his brother. “She is a woman, Wrecker... not a werewolf."

Hunter closed his eyes again and sighed, rubbing at his temples. Some days he wondered how exactly it was that they'd made it as commandos this long.

"I'm gonna go ahead and veto that one. I think it would be a little weird for a group of elite soldiers to have uh... women things.... on the ship."

Wrecker grumbled, "I was just trying to be helpful."

Crosshair nudged his shin with the butt of his rifle. "Lighten up, Wreck. We are literally getting paid to play taxi for a pretty princess. We could do this in our sleep." He chuckled, "Actually I'm pretty sure I have done something like this in my sleep."

Tech rolled his eyes. "Don't be an ass, Crosshair."

"At least I can get a woman's attention if I wanted to," he goaded.

Tech scoffed, "For your information, I have had several females ask for my com frequency."

"That's enough!" Hunter placed his hand firmly on the table. "Seriously guys? You're acting like a bunch of shiny regs. This is a mission. We're going to act like professionals."

"Have we ever really been professional?" quipped Tech.

Hunter sighed, "Let me rephrase that. We're going to do this just like we've done any other extraction. We get in, grab the target, get out. Got it?"

A chorus of "yes, sir"s announced the end of the discussion.

---

The smooth finish of the once beautiful wood floor felt cold on your cheek as you hid beneath the bed.

"Run! Run and don't look back!" Your mother's terrified voice echoed in your ears, and then the click of the lock as she pushed you into the back hall. Then the shrill scream she'd let out as the droids dragged her away. You'd only run when you heard the blaster fire.

One shot. Thud.

Your father and brother crying out in anguish.

Two shots. Thud. Thud.

Silence. Then voices - modulated and mechanical. Cold and calculating.

"Find the girl."

"Roger Roger."

You felt the dust creep up around your fingers, digging under your nails as you felt along the floor. It floated into your nose and down your throat, tickling and irritating. You suppressed a heavy sneeze that popped your ears, making you aware of every tiny noise. The metallic, icy fear that gripped your chest twisted every noise into something mechanical and violent.

It has to be here somewhere.

There.

Your fingers found purchase on a small, metal surface. The biometric lock whirred to life as you pressed your fingers to the surface.

A hatch hissed open revealing a small room in the wall beside the bed. You crawled out from under the bed, dusting off your pants. It felt naked, being out in the open like this. Dangerous. Vulnerable.

Deftly, you climbed into the hidden room and the hatch hissed closed behind you, locking you in. A dim light illuminated a small room. An emergency com device sat on a stool in the corner and a blaster hung on the wall. A ladder along the back wall led upwards. You had been here enough times with your father that you knew it led to the rooftop. But this time, it wasn't a drill and this time, you were alone.

You dialed the frequency.

A trooper sporting a red and white helmet appeared on the screen. Though you couldn't see his face, he seemed bored.

"This is a secure channel. You shouldn't have this number."

"I..." your voice left your lungs as barely a whisper.

"What's that?" He sounded annoyed now. A knot formed in the back of your throat.

"Speak clearly, please."

"I need to speak to my uncle." The words came out forced and choked.

"Look ma'am, this is a secure channel for GAR personnel only."

Someone said something in the background and the trooper turned, "...nothing, Sir. Just some civvie with the wrong number." He paused, listening to whoever was in the room with him. "...yeah she's trying to call her uncle or something. I'll handle it."

The screen shifted and suddenly instead of the trooper your uncle's face appeared.

"I... I need help." It took everything you had left in you not to burst into tears as you told him what happened. How the droid army came. How your father refused them. How they killed his family first and then him. How you ran and hid.

"Okay," Came his soft reply. "Okay. Keep the door locked and stay where you are. I'll send someone to come for you."

----

The message had come in only a matter of hours and now you waited, lying flat on the roof, for the ship to come carry you away.

Smoke rose in columns. You could smell the fires and tried not to think about the screaming. The people - your people - were dying and there you were, hiding away. Waiting for a rescue that the common citizen would have no hope of. Their choice was to surrender or die. They would die here.

Suddenly shouts rang out just below. "Hey! You! Stop!" The cold, whiny voice of a foot soldier. There was a scrambling of hurried footsteps as whoever they were chasing ran and tripped. You peered over the edge of the building.

"Hey! Where'd you go?" The battledroid sounded confused. Whoever it was chasing hid well.

You watched the figure slowly crawl, inching his way along the entrance to a garbage chute. There were only two ways for him to crawl. A dead end or the garbage chute. The droid seemed to suddenly notice this as well.

"Ha. Ha. You have nowhere to hide now."

He looked young - only a child. Maybe 12 or 13. He looked terrified.

Gritting your teeth, you made a decision you hoped you wouldn't regret.

"Hey!" You shouted. Both the boy and the droid looked up. "You leave him alone!"

"Look, it's the princess!"

"Wait, she's not supposed to be here!"

Kriff. There are more of them.

"I'll take care of her."

Both turned their blasters towards you. The boy was gone but now you'd given up your position.

Kriff. Now I'm dead.

You squeezed your eyes shut, ready for the inevitable blast that would carry you back into the arms of your family.

---

The blast came louder than you'd expected - more painful too. Your head throbbed fiercely and ears rang loud enough to muffle the sounds of yelling and blaster fire. The ragged edges of the wall lay rough and cold as your fingers found purchase on its stones, gripping tightly to shakily pull yourself to your feet. Something wet and warm trickled down your forehead, stinging your eye. You hissed as your fingers found the small cut above your eyebrow, fingers coming away red and slick.

Someone was shouting.

"Princess! Princess!"

This can't be happening. This can't be real.

"Princess!"

That voice again, loud and deep - shredding through the thudding of your pulse and the ringing shock in your head.

A pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around you, yanking you from the ground where you stood.

Panic sprang from every pore in your body as you struggled against that impossible grip.

"Hey! Calm down! You're safe! I got ya!"

He was running. The world seemed to flow by as if you were watching it through someone else's eyes.

Smoke drifted through the sky. Fires burned hot and buildings lay broken and crumbled. The only thing that felt real were the strong arms of the man carrying you from the carnage. Away from everything you'd ever known.

---

Your eyes never left the burning horizon of your home until the vast blur of hyperspace wrenched it away. It was only then you found yourself taking a breath, gasping as if you'd forgotten how to breathe.

"Are you okay?" A figure knelt beside you, slowly drawing your gaze to him. Long, dark hair hung over a dirty red bandana. "My name's Hunter. That's Crosshair, Tech, and Echo." He pointed out each of his brothers, "and that's Wrecker. He's the one who brought you back here."

You looked up at him. The large man looked as if he wanted to say something but stopped.

Hunter got up to join his brothers, leaving you to sit alone on the bunk.

You winced, bringing a hand up to your forehead as the cut stung with the stale air of the ship. Wrecker's look of feigned indifference suddenly morphed to one of concern as he peered through the short passageway of the ship.

"Hey she's bleeding!"

Wrecker immediately grabbed the medscanner, turning towards you - then paused.

He glanced away, the urgent need to make sure you were okay, suddenly transformed into an anxious uncertainty. He rubbed the back of his head in a nervous gesture.

"Here you do it!" he grunted before violently shoving the device at Tech who fumbled it a nanosecond before deftly catching it with sturdy fingers.

Tech frowned, "You are perfectly capable of taking the scan yourself." He sighed as Wrecker averted his eyes. "...but I will take over from here if that is what you want."

"Thanks Tech... I - I just don't wanna make 'er uncomfortable, ya know... in case she's scared of me on account of how I'm... Ehh, you know..."

Tech raised an eyebrow. "I do not think that is a problem, but I'm sure she would appreciate your consideration."

---

Wrecker sat glumly on the floor, leaning against Gonky, watching as Tech headed back up to the cockpit. His eyes slowly lingered back to you as you sat on the edge of the bunk.

"See, she's staring!" whispered Wrecker, leaning over to Crosshair, "I don't think she likes me."

Crosshair shook his head. "She's just in shock. Her family was practically killed in front of her. She's scared."

You could hear them whisper, glancing over at the way you sat stiffly on the bunk he'd sat you on.

Wrecker, he said his name was. An apt name for his profession. Yet, contrary to the tales that Tech had regaled to you, Wrecker seemed to simmer to a calm around you - like any sudden movement might scare you away. The concern was nice, but unnecessary.

He'd seemed so passionate when he'd jumped to save you from that blast.

"Hold on!" he'd boomed. "I've got you!" And you believed him.

Wrecker - the calm within the storm, until he became the storm itself. That was a nice thought.

Lifting your feet onto the bunk, you curled into the thin mattress. You wouldn't sleep. You couldn't. If you closed your eyes, those sounds would haunt you again.

"Run!"

Screaming.

"No!"

Blaster fire.

Thud.

No sleep would come tonight if you could help it - but the heavy fluttering of your exhausted eyelids soon proved to be more than you could fight.

---

"She woke up screaming."

The words, supposed to be a whisper, echoed dimly from the cockpit into the bunk where you lay - not quite asleep, but not awake either.

"We all heard it, Wreck." Came the somber reply from their leader.

"Yeah." A moment of silence. "Think one of us should talk to her?"

"Maybe."

"Tech, you do it! You're good at knowing stuff."

"I am unsure if I would be a suitable candidate for a conversation on such a delicate matter. I can offer solutions to improve her sleep but I do not think that is the issue here. Perhaps Echo should be the one to talk to her?"

"I don't know..."

Another moment of uneasy silence.

"Aw, come on guys" Wrecker's loud voice complained.

"Shhhhhh!" Chorused his brothers.

"Oh. Sorry!" His whisper wasn't much quieter.

"Wrecker's right," Hunter spoke. "Someone should talk to her."

"Wrecker, you should do it." Offered Echo.

"Me!? Why? I'm no good at stuff like that!"

"Hmm.... Echo may be right. She does seem to have an emotional connection to you, Wrecker. More so than to us."

"Wha.... whaddya mean?"

"He means she likes you, Wrecker." His brother smacked him on the shoulder.

"Hey! She does not!"

Crosshair smirked, "Oh she definitely does."

Wrecker fervently shook his head, "Does not!"

"Does to! In fact, I heard her last night in the fresher." Crosshair's grin widened, "She was all 'oh Wrecker, ohhh'" he mimicked the sound of your voice in jest.

Wrecker froze. "She did not! Yer just making that up!" He glanced at Hunter. If anyone had heard anything it would've been him. Hunter glared at Crosshair, who sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Okay, fine. I made that up. But..." he poked his brother in the gut with a boney finger. "I still think she likes you."

Wrecker frowned, rubbing a hand on the back of his bald head. He still looked unsure.

"Just get in there!" Crosshair kicked the back of his knee, causing him to stumble forward a few feet towards your bunk.

---

Wrecker sat awkwardly for a moment. He licked his lips. You blinked up at him, sleep still clouding your eyes in a confused daze.

He took a breath. He could do this.

It took you a few moments to fully wake, and another few to realize that Wrecker was sitting on his bunk, staring at you. A rush of heat stirred butterflies through your stomach - a feeling that had become all too familiar since being aboard this ship.

Wrecker looked nervous.

You blinked at him, tilting your head. He was still staring. "Uhh... Can I help you with something, Wrecker?"

"You dream bad." He blurted out.

Huh? A look of confusion crossed your face as a look of horror overtook his own.

"No! I mean.... I mean..." He shouted.

You jumped, startled.

He cleared his throat, looking mortified. "I mean... Ya... You..." he stuttered miserably. "Ya had a bad dream and I was just wonderin' if you were okay." He looked down, "That's all." He gulped. Great, he blew it. "I'll uh... I'll leave ya alone now."

He turned towards the cockpit, face red with embarrassment.

"Wait..." Your voice called out from behind him. "Wrecker wait...."

He paused.

"I... I think it was really sweet of you to come see if I was okay."

He heard you shift on the bunk, sitting up to swing your legs over the side.

"I... I'm sorry if I woke you up."

You sounded sad and Wrecker felt his heart crack. He turned back around, sitting down on his bunk again, facing you.

"Nah, I was already up." He chuckled, that explosive grin reappeared across his face. "Besides, it's pretty impossible to wake me up. Just ask Tech. One time him 'n Crosshair made a bet to see what they could do to make me wake up."

You giggled, the icy fear that gripped your chest began to warm. "What ended up waking you up?" You asked, genuinely curious. "Who won the bet?"

Wrecker grinned. "Crosshair did. He put a tooka treat in my ear and left the ship open. It was when we landed on Lotho Minor. There's lots of tookas around there."

You giggled, imagining a sleeping Wrecker surrounded by an army of tiny mewing tookas.

He was silent again and you felt those angry claw sneak their way around you again, freezing through your veins. Wrecker must have noticed, his smile faded.

"Didja wanna talk about it? Or..." he trailed off.

You shivered and leaned into him. Without thinking, he put his arm around you, pulling you closer - keeping you warm.

"I... It's just a lot to process." You said softly. "I just keep remembering. I keep hearing them die."

Wrecker didn't say anything. He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to see somethin' like that. Yer a princess. Yer supposed to go ta parties and drink those fancy juice things and eat those tiny sandwiches."

You sighed, "It's not all just parties and fancy stuff all the time, you know."

Wrecker sat up, looking at you. "It's not!?"

"No," you chuckled. "Sometimes it's sitting in on a really boring meeting. Sometimes it's learning how to fire a blaster in case you have to defend yourself."

"Whoa..."

You smiled sadly, "Lots of people don't like me when they hear I'm a princess. I think they think, that I think I'm better than them or something."

"That's a lot of thinkin'" Wrecker replied, not meeting your eyes. You chuckled.

It was silent again.

Wrecker cleared his throat, “I uhh… I think I know what you mean.”

You looked at him quizzically.

“A lotta people - “ Wrecker started, then paused. “Well, most people actually. They think I’m stupid just because I’m big and kinda slow with words and stuff.”

You frowned. “But aren’t you the demolition expert? You blow stuff up, right?”

Wrecker grinned at that, momentarily forgetting the awkward seriousness of the conversation before. “You bet I do!”

His smile was contagious and you found it inflicting its endearing passion across your own face. “Well then you can’t be dumb, silly!” you teased. “Don’t you have to be super smart to learn to build and disable all those explosives?”

Wrecker paused, “I dunno…”

You cut him off. “And not to mention the chemistry and physics and numbers it takes to do what you do so well!”

Wrecker shifted brushing his hand against your leg. You froze, suddenly realizing exactly how close you were to him - how his arm draped warmly around your back. The unexpected contact seemed to leave you breathless.

What was this?

Your skin seemed to burn where he'd touched you. You looked up at him.

This mountain of a man had saved you without even ever having met you before. He'd charged right into blaster fire, scooping you up as though you weighed nothing and he did it all with a smile on his face. You let out a shaky breath, shivering as he shifted and brushed against you once more.

Immediately, Wrecker jumped to his feet, realizing his mistake.

"I... I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare ya or... or touch ya... I..." He stuttered, "I... I'm such a..."

You looked up at him wide-eyed. "Wait! Wrecker stop!"

He paused, looking down miserably.

Now it was your turn to blush, "I... I didn't mind it." You said quietly, looking down at your feet.

He still looked unsure.

"I like being around you, Wrecker. You make me feel safe."

He looked down to where you patted the spot on the bunk beside you.

"You sure?" He asked tentatively.

You nodded, "I'm sure."

"You wanna know something funny?" He asked, voice uncharacteristically quiet as he sat again.

"What?" You smiled, leaning towards him.

"I thought you weren't going to like me... Just like you thought we weren't gonna like you."

"Of course I like you, Wrecker! And I'm really glad you were the one to find me."

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reashot · 4 months ago

Text

Red VS. Blue

Bleiss: Hello everyone let me introduce you all to my leader and Ruby's counterpart/"evil twin" Bluby.

Ruby: *gasp* (She looks exactly like me) 😮

Blake: How many more versions of us are there?

Yang: Yay! I got two little sisters for me to hang out with.

Weiss: Oh no, there's two of them now...

Jaune: (She's beautiful...)

Bluby: *hides behind Bleiss* 😶‍🌫️

Bleiss: C'mon Bluby just introduce yourself to everyone.

Bluby: hi... 😶

Bleiss: *sigh* Well as you can see my dear leader is quite shy compared to Ruby.

Ruby: Oh, she's so cute! I mean I'm so cute. C'mon I'm not going to bite you. 😘

Bluby: Uh... *Hides behind Jaune* 😨

Jaune:

Yang: Oops. He, he. Looks like you have a competition with your clone Ruby.

Weiss: Oh great, not another one.

Blake: A love triangle... (Scandalous! I'm so gonna post this online)

Ruby: Very funny everyone, but everybody knows that a copy can't beat the original. 😤

Bleiss: Well I wouldn't be so sure about that. Remember that Bluby is your opposite in every way.

That means unlike you she is very demure, very mindful.

Ruby: Hey! I can be both demoor and mine things too. 😡

Bluby: wait... 😔

Bleiss: And unlike you she's not obsessed with weapons and is not on the no fly list.

Ruby: You smuggled in one hand grenade and for some reason you ended up on the terror watch list. I thought Vale supposed to be a free country!

Bluby: stop... 😢

Bleiss: And also unlike you she's not a homophobe.

*record scratch*

Jaune: Wait?

Weiss: What?

Blake: Ruby you're...

Yang: Do you want to explain yourself, oh sister of mine?

Ruby: W-wait you-you do not actually believe in what she just said right? I'm your sister for goodness sake. *Sweats*🥵

Yang: I don't know Rubes you're sweating a lot for someone that said she's not homophobic.

Ruby: Grrr... Fine I admit okay I think realtionship should be like Adam & eve. Not madam & eve! 😖

Bluby: No...🥺

Blake: Ah ha! I knew it. You're the only one that's not happy that I finally dated your sister.

Jaune: Ruby is a homophobe... No... But I thought you liked my sister Saphron and her family?

Ruby: Th-that's different she's your sister and I liked everything about you... No matter how wrong I think same sex relationship is.

Weiss: Girl, I think you should shut up before you dig yourself any further.

Ruby: Oh, that's rich coming from a racist! 🤬

Weiss: Hey! Don't drag me into this.

*starts bickering & arguing*

Bleiss: Oh, ho, ho. This day couldn't be any better. *Opens bag of chip*

Bluby: *starts crying* 😭

And any suggestions for the name of JaunexBluby ship?

Or if you have any other questions just leave your message here.

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #lancaster #lancaster rwby #jaune x ruby #ruby x jaune #rwby lancaster #bluby #bleiss #jaune x bluby #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #rwby shitpost #homophobic ruby

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thecrazyalchemist · 10 months ago

Text

(this post is edited from time to time, some stuff may be outdated) [last edited: Sounds, 16th February, 2025]

---

More inactive as of now

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This is my bubble. I'll post some stuff about chemistry from time to time (PASSED ORGANIC CHEMISTRY!!!! GOT A 97!!!! SO EXCITED), stuff from fandoms I like, reblog quite a lot maybe definitely too much (as @bettinalevyisdetermined said [I think]: "I abuse the fast-reblog button"), and generally random stuff my dopamine dependant fueled machine likes.

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wistfulforstars · 5 months ago

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For What It's Worth - Part 7

Rex x Reader

Apologies for the long break! Life has been kicking my ass lately! Enjoy me putting Rex through another high-stakes situation!

Summary: Rex preps for the pro-clone rally, you would like him to stop treating you like an invalid already, the big day arrives, and all hell breaks loose

Warnings: Minors begone, The *plot* continues (I'm almost done teasing y'all, I promise), reader is afab, general violence, mobs gonna mob, I play fast and loose with CG protocol, Rex doesn't deserve this stress, mentions of sex, some attempts at sex were made, but Rex's will is made of steel, cliffhanger-y and I apologize, I didn't mean for the plot to plot this much

Tag List: @bambiswriting @jessyhazy @baddest-batchers @bimboshaggy @heylookitworked @eclec-tech @burningnerdchild @liopleurodean @littlemissbshine

If anyone would like to be added to the tag list, please comment below or message/ask directly.

Rex was absolutely exhausted.

Fox wasn’t lying when he said the guard was understaffed. Every day the protest grew closer, and with that came new complications. Complications he usually didn’t have to deal with on the battlefield.

Like civilians. Not insurgents. Not hostages. Not rebels against the separatists. Real and true civilians with not a drop of combat in their blood (not that they wanted it). And there were so many. The population of Coruscant was out of control, and he made a promise to himself to never, ever settle here. He needed sky. And trees. And occasional, honest silence. Not even his men could conjure such a racket.

But coordinating route plans through the city, placement of troopers, and escorts for persons of importance weren’t his only concerns. Rex hadn’t been sleeping well. And it was all your fault.

Still not cleared to work by a professional, but almost entirely back to feeling like your former self, you laid around your apartment all day, every day bored. Bored and, well… impassioned.

And you weren’t keeping it to yourself.

Rex could handle the thorough, suggestive kisses, no matter how hard the thought of your soft lips made him. He could deal with the increasingly short and revealing clothes - it’s hot in here, you’d said - even if he got the ungentlemanly urge to rip them off. He could even stay strong against the way you’d clamber into his lap and grind onto his cock while you watched your nightly shows. He would end every evening achingly erect, too stimulated to sleep, and kicking himself.

His honor and concern for your health couldn’t be compromised, but the desire to give you exactly what you wanted, what you needed, was all-consuming. Rex wanted to provide for you in every way, and being unable to was eating him up inside. You deserved to be catered and attended to. Adored. Worshiped.

You deserved to be fucked. In whatever way you craved. In whatever way you would have him.

And by the force, if he didn’t deserve to get some sleep. It wasn’t just the temptation of you, yearning, delectable you keeping him up at night. He wasn’t sure if it was because of your attack or a result of planning for every eventuality with Fox, but Rex was feeling paranoid. Every morning, on duty, even in the evening with you in his lap, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end. It was like he was back in the field, sleeping in the open, full kit on and one hand curled around his blaster. No matter the trooper on watch or his knowledge of the enemy’s location, it was always impossible to relax. Because of the constant, insistent feeling he was being watched.

That’s how he’d felt for five days now. Seen. Observed. Under fucking surveillance.

He admitted it might have been all the cameras and protocols used by the CG. But Rex had been raised by military bases, had been born breathing the air of structure and order. And not once had he ever felt this creeping awareness on his home turf.

He’d certainly never felt it on yours. And that was the part that really worried him. He’d learned to trust his gut a long time ago, and the fact that all of his alarm bells were going off while you were safe in his arms…while you slept, recovering from an assault on your body and mind…

He wanted to go home. He wanted to see with his own eyes and feel with his naked, ungloved hands that you were alright.

Instead, he was sitting through another adjustment to the current crowd control plan for the pro-clone rally, and the anti-protest that was sure to follow.

“Civilians are likely going to cluster in this sector,” Fox repeated for maybe a third time, gesturing to the holomap. “It’s a clear shot from a lot of domiciles and hot spots. Caf shops and casual shopping. Most of them won’t be protesters. They’ll be rubber-necks just looking to say they were there. There’s a clear sight path to the podium. I want as many troopers there as we can spare, ready to get people out if everything goes to complete shit. Thorn, you and your assignees are to hold the lines between the protesters, anti-protesters, and civilians. You boys are the grid by which we operate. If someone gets violent, you pack ‘em up and return to your post as quickly and cleanly as possible. They go to the drunk tanks to cool down.”

Rex nodded along. He’d had the plan memorized since the first briefing. He just wasn’t used to this level of prep time. Usually, he’d follow a certain Jedi’s first thought and just, well, make it work.

Fox continued, “Hound, your unit is patrolling the perimeter of the event with the massifs. Do not appear in force. Spread out. Keep the massifs calm. Make no moves unless you hear from either myself or the other commanders.” Hound’s “yes sir” was almost entirely lost, because Fox, clearly exhausted by this point, kept going without pause.

“Thire, you’re to take your unit into the two buildings on either side of the protest site. Keep an eye out. We have very public, very divisive figures in attendance and the last thing I need on my hands is a downed senator. If you see signs of a sniper, if you see a hostile assailant rushing the stage, you sound the alarm and take the shot if you can manage it.”

Rex then felt his brother’s attention on him, and sat up straighter. Fox’s visor met his own, and he inclined his head, “Captain Rex will be commanding the line between the podium and the crowd while I act as escort to the VIPs. That means that most of my rally unit will be assigned to a different commanding officer while I take a smaller squad to escort public figures to, through, and from the event. It also means that I will be absent for portions of the day, dealing with the struggles of our dear politicians. If any of you, any of you at all have a problem with taking orders from a decorated, battle-hardened commander who just happens not to be of CG origin, too fucking bad. You will follow Rex’s orders as if they come directly from me, understood?”

“Sir, yes sir!” rang through the hall.

“Damn straight,” Fox growled. “One more thing. Captain Rex will be more noticeable than you lot. He’s a well-known poster boy for the war, thanks to Jedi Master Skywalker, and his armor is bound to attract attention. I’ve requested his help at great sacrifice to his General and the 501st. I’d like to return him in one piece. That means look out for him, Thire, your unit in particular. The anti-protesters will be gunning for a figure like him standing out in the open.”

There were a couple of snickers amongst some of Rex’s more well-known acquaintances, but by and large the sea of red and white helmets regarded him with a mixture of reverence and, dare he say it, protectiveness. He felt like a very well cared for massif.

Fox dismissed the boys and sat down at the command table, taking off his helmet and rubbing his eyes. Somehow, the circles under them had gotten darker, “Sorry Rex, didn’t mean to make you sound like a damsel in distress.”

“You didn’t,” he chuckled. “I appreciate the manpower and the potential cover fire. You may have given them an overinflated view of my military record, though.”

“Please,” Fox rolled his eyes. “How many times have you been medalled?”

“Five out of seven times it was instigated by Amidala,” Rex snorted. “She gives me all the medals Skywalker isn’t allowed to accept.”

His brother let out a weak, but very genuine chuckle, then sobered up, staring glass-eyed down at the table, “This needs to be over.”

“Yeah,” Rex shook his head. “I’ve…had a bad feeling for most of the week. Like something’s wrong and I just don’t know what.”

Fox nodded, “Something is going to go wrong at the rally. I feel it. But there’s no way to prepare for every eventuality. All I can do is hope not too many people get hurt.”

Rex scanned his brother up and down, the tired eyes, the slumped shoulders, the gray streak in his hair, “You need a vacation.”

That prompted a single, hollow laugh in the back of Fox’s throat, “Sure, I’ll just submit my PTO request to the emperor. Shed the armor, turn off my comms. How’s Naboo this time of year?”

“I’ll have a word with Ularen’s secretary, she can join you.”

Fox sat up stick-straight, “That’s not funny, Rex.”

He shrugged, “I’m not laughing.”

“That’s…I can’t,” Fox shook his head, eyes wide and sad. “She’s not, we’re not-”

“How about this,” Rex leaned forward on his knees. “I promise, when I get back to the Resolute, I’ll get her to comm you.”

But his brother glared back at him, “She won’t do it. She’s…we’re not on the best of terms.”

“All the more reason,” Rex insisted. “She’s on a warship, Fox. You will never forgive yourself if she gets hurt and you didn’t get the chance to tell her whatever you need to tell her. Trust me.”

Fox looked away and stiffly put his helmet back on, coming back to his persona diligent control, “You’re a meddlesome idiot, brother.”

“Look who’s talking.”

*********************************

Your fingers were stroking his cock again.

“Ah, cyare,” Rex mumbled into your hairline, blinking in the flare of morning light. He reached down and removed your hand from his shorts. “None of that.”

You groaned, leaned forward, and scraped your teeth on his bare chest, “C’mon, Rex. You know I’m well enough.”

“Not till another, not-motivated-by-sex medic says so,” he gathered you up, pressing sweet kisses to your face, which was looking brighter and healthier by the day. “You’ve got your check-up tomorrow. Not too long now.”

“How do you have this much self-control?” you whined.

“A man can do anything with the right motivation,” he grinned down at you. Stars, you were beautiful. “I’m excited too.”

“Hmm, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he trailed his nose across your cheek, blowing warm air down to your ear. Your breath hitched. “Nothing I want to do more than sink into you, feel you wrapped around me again…except, maybe, lap at your pretty clit until you spill down my chin.”

You let out a tiny high pitched mewl, “That’s not fair, Rex. I’m so horny it hurts, and you’re leaving soon.”

Just like clockwork, his vambrace began beeping from across the room.

Rex kissed your nose, “You haven’t exactly been making this easy on me either, cyarika.” He reached down to grab at your hips. “The kissing and the stroking and the grinding. But I’ve been very nice, I know how hard this is for both of us. Just be good for me a bit longer, and I’ll give you everything you want.”

You sighed, properly chastised, “Okay. But maybe I could still come to the rally-”

“Not even if you held a blaster to my head,” Rex interrupted firmly. “We’ve talked about this.”

He got up to go and check the message on his vambrace while you huffed, “I don’t like the idea of you out there, dangled like bait for the worst of the anti-clone movement.”

“Fox and I both agreed that it would be best to keep the protesters focused on a trooper instead of the politicians.” Speaking of his brother, Fox was calling him in for the final briefing before they moved out this afternoon.

“But if I just waited at a caf shop a few blocks away-”

“I’d be out of my mind with worry the entire time,” he started pulling on his armor. “And I wouldn’t be able to do my job.”

You went quiet, which was surprising. The both of you had gone over this repeatedly last night. Rex could understand your anxiety, but he had his skills, he had his plastoid, and he had an entire branch of the GAR convinced that he needed to be protected at all costs. He suspected Fox felt guilty about using him for this, and was hyping up the troopers about his record, his legion, and maybe even the fact that he had someone to come home to.

He chanced a glance back at you, and felt his heart seize. You were teary, jaw clenched and staring out the window.

“Hey,” he strode over, breastplate hanging off him loosely. “Hey now, cyare.”

You threw your arms around him, pressing your body against the ridges of his armor, “Be careful, Rex. Please”

He held you, swaying slightly to the rhythm pounding in his chest, “I will, I promise. Give me ten hours. I’ll be home before you know it.”

“I’ll be watching you on the net,” you sniffed.

“I’ll wave if I see a camera.”

*********************************

That’s how he left you, curled up back under the covers and promising you’d take it easy. You were asleep again almost immediately.

The briefing was quick, and loading into the transports went by even faster. Fox wanted everyone in position before the first of the protesters gathered.

The troopers spread through the open space like they’d done it a thousand times. Rex only had to mind his own placement at the north corner of the stage and admire their precision. Fox had trained them well.

Protesters with homemade accessories (like buttons), colorful signs, and makeshift masks to look like GAR helmets started filtering in. Most of them looked like the pro-clone crowd.

An hour later, some anti-protesters arrived. The grounds became considerably louder, the air charged with electricity. Rex ordered a screaming man who approached the stage to be taken to the drunk tanks.

News crews pulled their speeders up, unloading all of their expensive equipment. They looked considerably calmer than Rex felt.

The space filled up faster than he could have anticipated. Every time he scanned the area, the burgeoning pile of bodies seemed to have multiplied. But the lines of troopers were holding well.

Another hour passed before the speakers arrived. Fox sent a ping to each commanding officer, and a moment later Bail Organa, Padme Amidala, several representatives, a net star, a reclusive philanthropist, and - Rex’s eyebrows raised - Shor Ryesim filled onto the stage. He guessed Shor wasn’t lying when he said he was the organizer of the event.

Organa’s speech opened the rally. It was well-written, level, and reassuring. Rex never understood what special quality made someone a good public speaker, but he was sure he didn’t possess it. Bail apparently had it in spades. Even the anti-clone folks calmed down a little.

The speakers began to blend together as Rex continued to scan the crowd. The representatives were supportive, if a little dull. He couldn’t blame them, how hard must it be to follow Organa? The net star came off vapid and brief, but at least he was using his position for something meaningful. The philanthropist looked almost embarrassed to be present. And Amidala…well, she was Amidala. Direct and spirited, passionate and definitive. She kept turning in his direction throughout the speech, and Rex fought the urge to give her the recognition she deserved. As far as the public knew, he was not familiar with her in the slightest.

The crowd began to pick up on her energy. Loud clashes of voices rose up. Rex caught a few troopers keeping brawlers apart. The anti-crowd began hurling insults and, in one case, a rock in her direction. It missed by a hair.

“Don’t bother with the drunk tank for that one!” Rex commanded. Amidala and the other politicians were ushered off the stage. And of course this was all streamed across the net. Skywalker was going to kill him.

“Are they calling it?” He commed Fox. “The crowd is rising.” And he wasn’t exaggerating. The pros were clamoring for the anti’s arrest. Insults and accusations flew.

“Hold on,” came his brother’s answer. “No, the organizer wants to give his speech, finish up with what they came to do. I’m taking the others out of here.”

Rex felt a stab of annoyance. Fucking Shor…

“Hold steady, boys,” he said to his troopers. “We’ve got one more speaker, then they’re gonna send ‘em home.”

Ryesim took to the podium with very little ceremony. He shouted into the mics, trying to maintain the attention of his audience.

“Friends! Friends!” he called. “If you’ll lend me just a bit of your patience! Remember, this event is for changing minds, not causing violence!”

Rex rolled his eyes and ordered two more brawlers led away.

“However, we must be willing to fight to defend what is good and just!”

What the fuck is he doing? Rex called for his troopers to be on high alert. Shor was apparently abandoning the idea of de-escalation.

“Enough violence has been committed in the name of slowing progress!” Shor yelled, smacking the top of the podium. “We are here to demand the full rights of clones be recognized! We, as full citizens of this great Republic, have a responsibility to understand the plight of those less fortunate than us! To put ourselves in the way of those who would harm our clone compatriots, who are no less valuable, no less deserving than we are. Citizens of Coruscant, we are under threat! A war has started, much like the one clones heroically pursue across the galaxy! Too many clone supporters have been met with barbarity on the streets where they walk every day!”

The screen behind the podium alighted, showing the image of a young man, nose clearly broken, with glass sticking out of his cheek.

“Take Kiran Serril!” Shor shouted, spit flying from his mouth. “Brutalized in his own home for a sticker on his door supporting clone citizenship!”

The mob screamed in unison. The lines of troopers between pro and anti groups were starting to break down.

“Fox,” Rex growled. “We need to end this. Now.”

Fox’s response came immediately, “Copy. I’ll comm the others. I’ve just put the VIPs in their transports. I’m on my way back.”

Shor was still screaming, riling the throng up with yet another disturbing image, “Ellebet Diranae is an elderly retiree, but that did not stop thugs from following her home and giving her a concussion for daring to read a pro-clone pamphlet in her local caf joint!”

All Rex could see were angry faces, brutal intent. He was done waiting.

“Form a wall boys!” he yelled, and his troopers started pushing the protesters back from the stage without hesitation. The ones keeping the two factions apart began getting serious, and the line down the middle reformed. “Blasters at stun only! Order them to disperse! Hound, get in here now, start getting those on the fringes to go home! Leave the massifs in the transports, they’ll just incite panic!”

He was so busy he didn’t hear Shor’s next introduction, didn’t see the transition to another exploitive image. Only when the crowd began falling back did Rex begin to register words again.

“- worst of all, this heroic, kind woman is a medic! She saves lives for a living! She lives in Coruscant, like all of you, not too far from here! I’ve known her since childhood, and they demolished her for the crime of wearing pins on a backpack!”

Rex’s hot, racing blood suddenly turned to ice. Slowly, or maybe it only seemed that way in the chaos, he turned back to look at the new picture on the netscreen.

No.

*********************************

You were having trouble breathing.

Wheezing, you raised a hand to touch your netscreen, running a finger down the little stage made of data and pixels. You hovered over Rex, who had his back turned to the mile-high image behind the podium. He was frantically trying to get the crowd under control.

Shor was shaking his fist, shouting like a lunatic. You wanted to squash him.

You caught the moment Rex turned and saw the screen behind him, could practically feel the moment he registered what had happened.

Shor had shown your face, battered as all hell. With multiple pictures, plastered on a surface taller than your building. From multiple angles, so the damage couldn’t be ignored.

Shor had screamed your name to the entire city, the entire planet. With that, someone could find your address. Find your place of work.

You’d be on the news in a matter of hours. You and those other poor souls Shor undoubtedly didn’t get permission to showcase. You sobbed. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

As you watched, Rex prowled towards the Twi’Lek, who didn’t even notice a murderous clone in his periphery. Fox appeared on the other side of the stage, and rushed to intercept. You weren’t sure he would make it in time.

Rex ripped the microphone clear off its stand, the podium screeching in protest. That move gave Fox the time he needed to get in between the two and slam Shor to the surface of the podium. He put his other hand on Rex’s wrist, and even though it was hidden behind the rest of his body, you knew Fox was stopping your boyfriend from drawing his blaster.

A moment while they stood, staring each other down through their visors. Finally, Rex stepped back, and Fox cuffed Shor. With his other hand, the commander looked to be talking into his comms. Your brutalized face disappeared from behind them.

A moment later, your own netscreen went black.

#captain rex #captain rex x female reader #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #sw tcw fanfic #clone wars fanfiction #the clone wars #wisteriabyrnefanfic #wistysfics

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imabeautifulbutterfly · 9 months ago

Note

Ok I’m here 😂 congrats babes!!!

For the jukebox Roulette…it was hard to pick a song but I’m gonna say My Girl by the Temptations with Fives?

Can’t wait to see what you come up with!! 🩵

Hello love @coffeeandbatboys!

THANK YOU so much for submitting a request, and for My Girl, no less. One of my favourite songs!

I hope I did this song justice and I hope I did Fives justice too.

Love oo!

My Girl

Warnings: Not really any, except for feelings, maybe. I'm not sure. Anyway, if I do miss anything, please let me know.

Main Master List | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette | AO3 Link

Fives didn’t understand it the first time it happened. He’d just joined the 501st, he stood in the hangar after receiving the medal ceremony, when the whole world went quiet and all he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat.

Boom-boom-boom

It had a rhythm of its own, a song that called out to him in the quiet. He closed his eyes and shook his head and just like that, the world came to the fore again. He’d been concerned he had picked something up on the Rishi outpost, when he went to Kix for a physical everything came back clean.

The second time it happened, was when he entered the mess hall, his breathing caught in his throat, and his eyes focused on you as you laughed at another trooper’s jokes.

Boom-boom-boom

He shook his head again, and the world came back. Echo tapped his shoulder, making sure he was alright, Fives didn’t know how to respond. Of course, he was alright. At least he hoped he was.

The third time it happened was when you actually directed your smile towards him. The whole world shut out except for that familiar rhythm and your voice. It was a voice that made his whole world brighter, it pushed away his grief, his worries. It was a voice that filled his whole world with sweetness, as long as he heard your voice everything else was fine.

“Fives!” You called to me, as he just stared at you, you waved your hand in front of his face. “Hey! You okay?”

Fives shook himself out of his thoughts, “Yeah, yeah” he closed his eyes and shook his head, “Sorry, I think I got too used to being on the Rishi moon. It’s taking me some time to get acclimatized to the ship’s gravity.”

You nodded, “I understand, I had a hard time at first when I had to be on a ship full time. Anyway, you came to ask me about making some adjustments to your blaster?”

“Yeah. I was wondering if we could make the grip thinner by a few micrometers.”

“Hmmm, let me see.” You took his blaster, humming as you worked.

Fives became lost in your humming, it was soothing, and full of sweetness. How was that possible? How could it be that just your smile, your voice, even your humming made his world seem perfect?

“What are you humming?”

“Hmmm?” You glanced up to him as you were making notes on your datapad.

“What’re you humming?”

“Oh, it’s a song my dad used to sing all the time. I don’t why but lately I can’t get the song out of my head.”

“Sounds like a nice song.”

“It is. It’s about a guy who has this girl, that makes everything better. Even if it’s cloudy, there’s sun, because she’s there. When it’s cold, he doesn’t feel it because he has her.” You smirked at how ridiculous the lyrics really were, “He goes on to compare how bees are jealous of him because he has so much honey, or how the birds’ song is nothing compared to the song he sings. It’s all because of his girl. It’s sweet, but a little ridiculous.”

You answered your eyes focused on the blaster, as you kept making notes, “Well, from what I can see, I think it’s doable to slim down the grip, but the weight will be off, because it’ll be top heavy, so I’ll have to trim down the barrel as well, to balance out the weight.”

“Why is it ridiculous?”

“Huh?” You looked back into those warm brown eyes that every clone trooper seemed to have, but his were different. His eyes held a sense of responsibility, a sense of mischievous, but very kind eyes.

“Why is it ridiculous? I mean isn’t it possible that someone’s world gets turned on its head because of someone else?”

You don’t know why but you felt your heart flutter at his statement, “You saying you’ve had your world turn on its head because of someone?”

“What if it did?”

“Then you’re very lucky, not everyone can experience that.”

He moved closer leaning against the work bench as he kept his eyes on you, “Maybe you just need to listen to your own heartbeat.”

In that moment, the world went quiet for the both of you, all that could be heard were your two hearts beating as one.

Boom-boom-boom

Suddenly your world seemed brighter with him there.

Main Master List | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette | AO3 Link

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal @crosshair-is-the-superior-clone @totallyunidentified @griffedeloup @leotatombs @leotawrites

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dindjarindiaries · 8 months ago

Text

WRITER'S CHOICE

These are my personal favorite stories that I've written so far, as well as my favorite stories written by others.

This list will be changed and/or added to over time as new stories emerge.

You can also read my stories on my AO3.

My ratings are as follows: G (all ages), T (13+), M (18+)

main masterlist

MY STORIES

DIN DJARIN SERIES

security* • fem!oc An ex-princess forced to hide and fight for her life, Astra is now on the run with a Mandalorian and a foundling, trying to protect the three of them from the threat of death that creeps around every corner accompanied by a tracking fob. ↳ This series will always be special to me for so many reasons, but mainly because it was the first Din Djarin story I ever wrote. Din and Astra have such a beautiful relationship that I've loved developing over the years. This story is also like a time capsule, as it's constantly being added to the more they create new Mandalorian content. It's very nostalgic to go back and see how my writing has improved over the years through this story alone.

bloodlust* completed • fem!reader A daring favor from Boba Fett sends you and Din undercover together—as a married couple. When tensions rise and mysteries unravel, you’re left to determine what’s real from what’s not before your time runs out. ↳ I truly didn't expect to love this story as much as I did when I started writing it, but I had a ton of fun with this one. It really brings out a very honest yet sensual depiction of Din's character that was really fun to explore. It also allowed me to give him a modern twist without taking Din outside of the Star Wars universe.

DIN DJARIN ONE-SHOTS

ni ceta par gar (i kneel for you)* • reader When Mando needs emotional release, you seek to fulfill your pining by offering something neither one of you can resist—something that could change everything. ↳ Anyone who knows me knows I'm not really a spicy gal, but this story was a fun experiment that turned into something I honestly loved. I adore the way Din behaves in this story, especially in the latter half. It's got a really nice balance between angst, spice, fluff, and hurt/comfort.

united we fall • reader Din’s unable to control the Darksaber and accidentally hurts you with it, leaving behind a deep scar on your body and his mind. ↳ This story was my first response to Din returning in TBOBF, and as an angst girlie, I eat this kind of hurt/comfort right up. It was heartbreaking to depict what Din would have done in this situation, but the comfort he receives is a perfect balm. I come back to this one a lot, and with each new one-shot, I try to recreate whatever energy I created here.

love me louder • reader Your secret romance with the Mandalorian is put at risk when you find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time. ↳ Forbidden/secret romances are gonna do it for me every time, and it was so fun to bring one to life in this one-shot. Protective Din is my favorite, so to depict that along with the reader character's own strength and reassurance was a really fun balance. I just live for the high-stakes moment in this one.

doomsday • reader You and Din are interrogated by Moff Gideon, who has quickly realized you’re the best weapon he has to use against the Mandalorian. ↳ Like I mentioned earlier, I'm an angst girlie, especially with a hefty dose of hurt/comfort when I can. There's not a ton of physical comfort here, but the emotional comfort throughout the torture was delicious to bring to life. This one is a true testament to what I think Din's strength, mentally and physically, would be in a situation like this.

HUNTER SERIES

senator’s shadow • fem!reader Clone Force 99 is assigned as your protection when you embark on a risky diplomatic mission, and a certain sergeant starts to get protective of you. ↳ Besides the fact that this is my only Hunter series so far (with at least two more coming soon!), this story has been really special to me as of late. It's helped me to bring multiple personalities to life in a way that I think and hope is faithful and accurate, and it also has a delicious tension in its main relationship that's been super fun to develop.

HUNTER ONE-SHOTS

borrowed time • reader You can’t stop staring at Hunter during a mission, and little do you know just how distracting it is for both him and you. ↳ If you know, you know. This one was born out of a single idea that I told myself I had to sit down and write right away, and that's exactly what happened. It's a simple concept, but that payoff at the end is just... probably one of my most intense kissing scenes I've ever written!

at victory’s end• reader You help Hunter to recover from the lasting effects of Hemlock’s torture on Tantiss. ↳ This was my response to the series finale, and for anyone who, like me, yearned to comfort him after those intense events, this one really hits. I do wish I could have expanded it more, but I'm still satisfied with the end result. Seeing Hunter go right into protector mode after he recovers is very on-brand.

in peace, there is love• reader Months after Tantiss in the peacefulness of Pabu, you find it impossible to ignore the feelings you’ve always had for Hunter. ↳ After making characters go through a lot of angst and hurt/comfort, this was a really sweet thing to explore. I especially had a wonderful time describing what Hunter would look like in the height of their retirement era. I hope it's just the first of many retired-Hunter-on-Pabu stories that I'll write.

MY RECOMMENDATIONS

DIN DJARIN SERIES

healer completed • fem!reader → @bestintheparsec You’re medically trained and meet the Mandalorian by chance. Over time, you become more than just a crew member. ↳ This series is the reason why I made this blog and started writing for this fandom. It will always have a special place in my heart because of that. This one truly helped to set the standard for classic Din x reader tropes during/just after season 1 premiered. It's a beautiful, heartfelt ride.

the lovely moons* • blind!reader → @vercopaanir Din buys your freedom and saves your from servitude to instead take you in as a paid crew member. As you help him with the child, you become much closer, your fates now intertwined. ↳ This story reads like a book. Din is very accurately characterized, and there's both faithfulness to canon and some new compelling adventures with high stakes. This one really has it all: incredible writing, heart-stopping action, and a sweet, sweet romance at the heart of it all.

DIN DJARIN ONE-SHOTS

protector • fem!reader → @aerynwrites When the ship is attacked unexpectedly, Din does everything he can to protect you, but you both end up being taken. When they suggest torturing you, Din offers to get tortured instead to save you. ↳ I said it before and I'll say it again: I eat these kinds of angsty hurt/comfort stories UP! This is one of the first I remember reading, and clearly, it's made a massive impact on me. I think about this one all the time. It's such a classic that I revisit time and time again.

HUNTER SERIES

what is this feeling • fem!reader → @masterjedilenawrites You grow close to Hunter when he and the squad are residing with you and protecting your home, but the time comes for them to leave. Misunderstandings lead to jealousy until you're forced to confess how you feel about him. ↳ This Hunter story lives in my mind rent-free all the time. I've already re-read it a few times and I only discovered it a few months ago. This has not only wonderful characterizations of the entire squad, but also just a super sweet and meaningful romance at the center of the story, even when you're yelling at them for not understanding one another.

Have a Din Djarin or Hunter story you'd like me to read? Submit it here, and I'll do my very best to check it out!

main masterlist

#din djarin #hunter #hunter bad batch #din djarin x reader #hunter x reader #hunter bad batch x reader #din djarin fanfiction #fic rec #dindjarindiaries

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dragongirltongue · 1 year ago

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New Pinned post <3

Hi there, the name is Zelda, or one of like, 20 other names that may or may not be listed somewhere around here. If you know a name I go by that isn't findable here don't use it. <3

I'm bigender which is made up of girl and fem6oy, as such I use she/her and sometimes he/him pronouns when I'm feeling fem6oy enough <3

I'm in my 30s, not getting more specific than that until I decide it's not true enough to change it, don't try to find my exact age as I don't like sharing that information publicly, I don't even update it on my birthday <3

I'm a polyamorous bisexual voraphile freak and if you're over 18 you're welcome to talk to me about how much of a freak I am. I love to flirt and encourage it. Also happy to share my Other Blog with anyone interested, again as long as you're of age. <3

I'm a film graduate and currently working on doing something with that experience as well as working on a superhero comic and a 2D zelda style game. Feel free to bug me about any of those I love to discuss writing and media and want to encourage media literacy. <3

I'm also an ex-jehovahs witness and as a result I'm hugely into the holiday season in a very against my old god kinda way. Also big into sinning <3

Also I'm like, a dragon in probably an otherkin/thetadelta kinda way, like, it's core to who I am and how I understand myself so yeah. Despite this my fursona is a fox, the dragon in my icon is literally me <3

I also draw sometimes and when I do it'll be posted to @dragongirldrawings but always reblogged here too.

Also I'm a member of a plural system, feel free to check out the rest of the system over here @haven-sys <3

Further on the identity weirdness I'm an imaginary friend for the person who used to inhabit this body, they've been gone for like, over 20 years so it's not really relevant but I have started embracing my nature as a fictional creation, it's comforting.

Btw, if one of my posts containing my typing quirk ends up on your dash I take no responsibility for it. I use it in posts that are for me only and if they happen to resonate with others that's their choice to reblog.

I had intended to set tipping up on my blog for a while but adhd caused me to never get around to it sooo, homebrew tip button on my original posts. Feel free and outright encouraged to steal this idea <3

So yeah that's me, hiii I love you all <3

this post is specifically a6out tum6lr user Zelda dragongirltongue [tip]

DNI list under the read more.

lmao imagine if I actually made one of those finally, that's how you'd know I've been replaced with an evil clone or something.

That being said if you're looking at my blog to send me an ask or dm about what someone gets off to please understand unless they're actively hurting someone I rly don't care. I have a lot of ignored and blocked anons about this.

This goes double if the person you're trying to alert me to is trans femme, we don't play that game here, especially given that I know I've been targetted for things as simple as engaging in vore the wrong way for some people or whatever.

Like, I just want to make it clear I rly don't give a fuck what another adult does in the bedroom, I rly don't care if the bedroom happens to include their blog and I rly don't care if they like to flirt about it with other adults on this website.

Also if your pinned post is a callout for anyone about anything it's likely to set off my paranoia around you, which is to say I will not be able to trust you if this is the case even if it's for someone who's actually a danger to a community, like, actively.

Like, this ain't a moral stance or anything, it's a mental health thing. I see that you want to make your first point of contact into a crosshair on someone else I'm gonna be scared you're gonna aim at me next even if it's completely reasonable that you'd never find anything objectionable with me. It scares me and I'm gonna spend every interaction walking on egg shells around you cos what if you're digging for dirt, like, I got no way of knowing.

Anyway as the opening joke implies I don't see any worth in having a list of things to not interact with me over cos the lived experience on this planet is so full of nuance and I've formed deem friendships with people who'd probably have avoided me if I had a DNI and they cared about it.

I think DNIs are dumb but this feels like a space to talk about some general limits on what I'm gonna put up with on this website. I'm just here for a good time with other freaks, anything else is optional. If you want to drag me into your discourse at this point then I guess this is whre I ask you to Do Not Interact. To anyone else, I love yall <3

If you've been directed here after sending an ask my way please apologize for wasting my time [here]

tl;dr DNIs are dumb but don't drag me into your personal grievances with others.

this post is still specifically a6out tum6lr user Zelda dragongirltongue [tip]

#6aaah #last updated june 4 #adding my tip 6utton on here too

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dragonrider9905 · 11 months ago

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Celebrating You!

Hi guys! I’ve been on here for a bit now and while I never had a follower goal, I do appreciate you guys who have decided to follow me! So now I’d like to celebrate you!

In light of TBB ending, and how much we'll be missing the boys, I thought this was as good as a time as ever!

Here’s the idea! I’m opening a prompt request for the dates of April 5th through May 5th, 2024 (you may start submitting now though!) and choose from the prompts below! You can choose one from each category, or just one category. It’s ok if it is just the prompt or the prompt and a brief idea. If you have a fun idea or prompt not listed, please share!

Rules: I only write SFW. I typically write for clones; I reserve the right to refuse requests which make me uncomfortable for whatever reason. I have had a few requests in the past that really unsettled me for various reasons. Or if I don't know the character. I'd hate to try to write something then upset the person because it is so ooc that it's cringy. (But if I said I would write your request and haven't yet, I just honestly haven't gotten to it :D I like to do well on the stories you guys entrust to me so it does take me a bit :D)

This is supposed to be fun so lets keep it fun!

You may submit as many requests as you'd like! The more the merrier!

Characters: Star Wars Clone Wars or The Bad Batch (as long as I know them. I know a lot of clones but alas, not all.)

Story genre:

Classic SW! (Pick an era if they exist in more than one if you wish)

AU of choice (modern, western, pirate, mermaid, time traveling, etc if I’m unfamiliar with the genre, I may have to change it or request more details)

Dialogue Prompts:

“Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

“If we’re going to do this we’ll need—“ “A plan?” “No! Code names! Cool ones!”

“I don’t need to be anything to you. I just want my life to mean more to you than my death.”

“You are playing a dangerous game without even a glimpse of the rule book.”

“I’ve never been terrified of death, til he set his sights on you.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” “Yeah, you’re not allowed to ask that in this situation.”

“Where’s your shoe?” “The giant mud puddle in the road demanded a sacrifice.”

“Love at first sight doesn’t exist.” “Then how else do I describe the feeling I got when I first saw you?” “You…love me?” “Apparently not, according to you.”

“A fate worse than death….” “They’re burnt cupcakes.”

“White paint has more color than your face.”

“Why is there a dragon in my fridge?” “It was hot.”

“Touch **, and you’re dead.”

“I am the law.”

“Do that again and I’ll throw you out the window. Wait, what are you doing?” “Checking how high the drop is; seeing if it’s worth it.”

“I’d rather have you hate me than loose you entirely.”

“I have a mission but don’t know what it is.” “Well that sounds incredibly counterproductive.”

“I would like to join you in acknowledging the difficulties in your life.” “You are the worst at this comforting thing.”

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this but I’m quite petite.” “Really? I had no idea in our twelve years of friendship that you’re shorter than I am.”

“But what is power?” “Loyalty.”

“Don’t you sign to me in that tone.”

“I’m with him/her for better or worse.” “It’ll probably be worse.” “I knew that the day I met him/her.”

"I'm sorry I tried to kill you." "It's fine, but next time you should try harder."

"C'mon, like I need an excuse to spend time with you."

"You're not as bad as everyone says you are."

"The only one who gets to kill you is me."

“blood loss”? well it’s not lost. I know exactly where it went. right over there.”

“How the mighty have fallen!” “It’s a dropped chocolate bar, stop being dramatic.”

“Shit, we’re gonna die” “Now I don’t want to hear that negative attitude, look on the bright side!” “Yay! We’re gonna die! Woo!”

“How do you do it?” “How do I do what?” “Pretend you are ok.” “I’m not pretending.” “Yes, you are. Every single day and it breaks my heart.”

“Hey, so I know things are pretty f**** shitty right now but I need you to breathe for me.” “Wha-wh-wh-” “You’re having a panic attack. It’s gonna be ok. Just breathe with me.”

“Please, my arms—I can’t wipe my tears, don’t let them see!”

"Smiles are contagious!" "Don't worry, I'm vaccinated."

"I don't want to get involved, it's too risky." "Please do it for me, you're the only one I can turn to." "It's not worth it. You really want to lose everything? 'cause I don't."

"Do you ever think of anyone other than yourself?" "No"---a long pause---"actually yes, at Christmas time"

"There is a reason I go through that door first, It's to make sure everyone else walks back out"

“I can’t leave you here!” “You can and you will.”

"OH! Are you alright? Are you alright?" "Apart from being trapped under here, and maybe suffering from broken bones and embarrassment beyond what I am capable of handling. . . I'm dandy, why do you ask?"

Oh no, are you alright? You're covered in blood!" "Yes, it's yours, Now will you please let me take you to the hospital?"

"What did love ever do anything for anyone anyway?"

"What the hell were you even thinking?!" "You told me not to think!"

"With love comes loss, that's part of the deal. Sometimes it hurts, but in the end, it was all worth it. There's no greater gift than love."

“'Temporary stitches' all stitches are temporary if you have a pair of scissors and aren’t a coward" "What do you....that better not mean what I think you mean......" "Am I just talking about sewing stitches or sutures too? Maaayyybe?" "NO! Absolutely not!"

"I made the calculations, and boy am I bad at math."

"It'll be over soon, I promise."

"Working together again, just like old times." "Well, not just like old times."

"I am many things but not your enemy."

Action Prompts:

Forehead kisses

Palm/hand kisses

Dramatic rain scene

Touching foreheads

Jealousy

Dancing

Last stand

Christmas/Life Day celebration

mistletoe

Accidental hand touch

First date

First kiss

Spending time with the family

Bad day cheering up scheme

Pranks

Going to a pet shop

Going to the movies

Always go after the girl

soft spoken person has loud, unnerving scream.

Lullabies

Nightmares

injury

amnesia

pretend/mistaken to be married/in a relationship

cooking

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this-shit-is-zucchini-baby · 1 month ago

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Gun companies and their reputations

hello murder drones fans! here's a random idea i wanted to post. as we know, people love making fankids. especially with Uzi, and with uzi, people are going to want to name their fankids after guns. ive already seen it, and I understand it. its sick as hell!

however, these are gun companies were talking about, and the gun industry does actually have loads and loads of drama. some of these companies also do not have your best interests in mind. I personally, would not name my son after a gun company with a systemic sexual harassment lawsuit against it, or from a company that fucks over its customers.

Im gonna be compiling a list of gun companies with names that could be used as names for a person, and giving some background on the company and their standing in the market. I'll try to make it alphabetical, and if you see any other company names you want me to add and give insight on, I'll add it with an edit.

Lemme know if i get anything wrong as well! I'm writing most of this down from memory over my experiences with these guns and companies

Armalite - I suppose you could use this as a name?? They used to be owned by Fairchild Corp, and made the first versions of the Ar-15 for the US military, before selling the design to Colt for mass production. The AR-15 was originally designed as full auto btw. the M16 is an Ar15, not every Ar15 is an M16. They make guns still, but they're a far cry from the original Armalite. I haven't heard of anything bad about them particularly.

Beretta - The oldest still standing gun company on the planet, they are almost 500 years old now. They've made derivatives of the Walther P38 for about a century now, also known as the Beretta 92 or M9, and they make sporting and combat shotguns, as well as some newer stuff like the APX striker fired pistols and CX4 carbines. When NFTs were all the rage, they tried to cash in on it with some virtual photos of guns that were worth fake money. It didn't go well, and Beretta support isn't known for responding to customer support emails. Their 92 series of pistols are dead reliable though, just chunky.

Brugger & Thomet - They make good guns, but they're all so ridiculously expensive that it's not worth it at all. They make a lot of popular suppressors, and as a company is reported to pay very well.

Colt - Recently bought out by CZ, Colt is one of oldest American gun companies. They were known for producing the 1911 designed by John Browning, and the AR-15 by Eugene Stoner and Jim Sullivan. Colt did not design the Ar-15, that was Stoner and Sullivan at Armalite when the Airforce requested a new rifle because the M14 was dogshit. Colt made AR-15s for a long time before FN Herstal made a better version (The M16A4, and later the M4) that met the military's needs. Colt has very little drama that's notable, but in the 80s-90s they made the All American 2000, which was called a bad gun in retrospect by every youtuber on the planet. The gun worked perfectly fine, it was reliable, it just has a very long and heavy trigger.

CZ - Mentioned because of its clones and their names. Originally owned by the Czechoslovakian government, before being split off into a private company, they make some modern looking pistols, the CZ-75 and modern sporting derivatives, as well as assault rifles, sporting shotguns, and some bolt action rifles. There's nothing much of note, other than that CZ fans will absolutely have to let you know they're a CZ fan. They're guns are pretty fine, and ive never heard of any reliability issues. the CZ-75 is also a gun thats been used as a base for other companies guns such as IWI's Jericho 941 and Baby Desert Eagle, Tanfoglio's clones, SAR's clones, B&T's Mark 2, the Armalite AR-24, the Springfield P9, the Sphinx SDP- Actually, here's a chart of how many CZ-75 clones there are, its MASSIVE. People love copying this gun. Dont buy a clone, just get a CZ-75.

Https://weaponsman.com/so-how-many-cz-clones-are-there/

Franchi - A long time ago they made the LF-57 SMG, and they made the SPAS-12 shotgun. They were bought by Beretta and Beretta discontinued the SPAS-12 so that Beretta could sell their combat shotguns to police and military instead. Franch makes hunting and sporting shotguns now. The Spas-12 was never a good shotgun because it was ridiculously heavy and chunky, and loading it was a pain in the ass compared to other shotguns that dont need locked loading gates.

Glock - They make exactly one gun in over 31 different configurations. These things are used by everyone and the only reason one is going to malfunction is if you stick aftermarket parts in it. This is the safest gun you could possibly buy, but they fit some people's hands badly. This is like the default price for a gun at 550 USD

Heckler and Koch (HK) - They make the MP5, UMP, G36, HK416, USP, and VP9. They're kinda overpriced and over hyped. The MP7 is a bad gun btw

Kel-tec - (I suppose you could use "Kel") Someone take the crack away from their engineers. They make cheaper guns that are sometimes the absolute best thing on the market (CP33), and other times just a very weird product that doesn't make sense to exist (PR57).

IWI/IMI - The gun company sorta owned by the state of Isreal, their one claim to fame is the Uzi, made by Uziel Gal, who was supposedly kind of an asshole. Every gun they made afterwards was licensed, they just make stuff for the isreali military, and sell stuff to the US too. They make an Ar-15 clone called the "ZION-15". Let that sit in your mind before you buy something from them. They also make the Uzi Pro, which is a micro uzi pistol, with a plastic receiver to make it cheaper to manufacture than the original Uzi's. Its really ugly, overpriced, and you're better off buying a Mac 10 from Masterpiece Arms. IWI used to make the Desert Eagle, before Magnum research started making everything in the USA instead of licensing it to Isreal. Magnum Research is owned by Khar Arms now.

2025-01-26: I forgot, but I was intending to mention IWI because of their gun names, the Uzi, the Galil, and Jericho

Khar Arms - There is nothing to say about this company, I believe they only stay in business because of the Desert Eagle. They make some basic pistols that actually look unique, but there's nothing else, I would assume their guns are reliable at least.

Kimber - A company that was so dogshit at making the 1911, that everyone from Boomers to Zoomers knew not to buy their products. Supposedly they're starting to get out of their rut, and they make some pretty looking 1911 pistols.

Sturm Ruger - American gun company where the owner was actually a bit of a dick and liked to comply with gun restrictions, and supported magazine capacity restrictions. Its likely why the Ruger 10/22 and Mark pistols only held 10 rounds until Ruger as a company started making 25 round stick mags for the 10/22. They also made the Mini-14 which is a smaller version of the M14. Its not that good, but its used frequently against the Ar15 in bad legality arguments. All of their current products are pretty reliable and affordable, besides the previous CEO's opinions, they're a decent company.

Sig Sauer - DO NOT BUY ANY PRODUCTS FROM THIS COMPANY. This is not even about the moral issues like with IWI, SIG SAUER USA GUNS ARE NOT SAFE. Sig Sauer USA is a completely seperate company from the old German Sig Sauer, and the Swiss SIG. Sig now makes containers, Sig Sauer Germany was closed down because they kept trafficking arms, and Sig Sauer USA is now owned by Ron Cohen, who has not been able to answer why their P320s keep shooting randomly. Their products are notoriously unreliable, of poor quality, using parts usually made in 3rd world countries in order to be cheaper, and they had a lawsuit against them for an old women who was constantly sexually harassed by her supervisor at the USA factories. Their MCX rifles and SMGs are known to break randomly, the Cross had a safety issue where the gun could fire upon closing the bolt, the SPEAR has barrel mounting issues where with only your bare hands, could BEND the barrel mount side to side. They are an awful company and have nothing to do with the old Sig 550 rifles and P226 or P210 pistols that were actually decent, if a bit outdated. Bad company, bad to mediocre guns. There are huge rumors that Sig Sauer USA is in bed with some higher ups in the US Military, as Sig won the contract for the military's new service pistol, new service rifle, new service beltfed machine gun and for service ammunition production. Fudd Blasters and Protraband on youtube have made videos on them, explaining in detail what is bad about them. Their guns aren't even that revolutionary or anything, they're just cheap.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BSlleZOxy9g

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1RIvHsZZ9ho

Smith & Wesson - Based in the US, they chase police contracts mainly. Their guns are actually pretty dang good, priced decently, although they mainly chase whatever other companies are doing. I personally wouldn't buy from them because they support the police so much.

Springfield - The Springfield armory that exists now is not that same Springfield armory that the US Government owned for producing guns. Springfield now is known for importing guns of dubious quality and function from Croatia. They used to import/make clones of HK G3 rifles, poorly. They paid a bunch of shills a while back when they brought in the VHS-2 rifle into the US to call the gun a really good product, but the gun was found out to be very mediocre and the shills were selling their guns after making reviews to bank on the artificial market.

Taurus - Before they started making their own G2 and G3 pistols, they got their entire name for copying Beretta pistols and S&W revolvers, cheaply. The G2 and G3 are affordable pistols that are actually very reliable, and thus are usually owned by people in poor situations. There's not much wrong about them as a company, besides making the Taurus Judge.

Walther - German company who made uhm, various, guns for a certain... Political party during the first half of the 1900s (Similar to BMW), they almost exclusively make sporting and defense pistols now. The Walther P99 and PDP pistols are very good, and they make various Olympic style pistols and rifles for professional shooting like the GSP Expert. 100 years ago, we would be calling them the enemy, but currently they make guns for civilians and while they do sell the PDP towards police, I can't think of any notable use it has. The Walther P99 was extremely popular with police in the 90s though, and it's silloette is used on "No guns allowed" signs frequently.

#murder drones #murder drones fankid #murder drones uzi #md uzi #md fankid

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the-mad-rat1 · 2 months ago

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While I'm reading horrortale I am creating a player character with their own story on the side, to explain how the whole Queen Sans AU is gonna happen, I already have a design in mind, so I am making a short list of my first ideas i have for them here. (Spoiler alert, the list became longer than I thought it would be):

They are an AU creator and artist, who loves their creations a lot, they used to spend a lot of time creating AU's while they were younger.

They had to go on a hiatus for a while to focus on studying and stuff, causing error to destroy 2-3 of their AU's while they were gone.

When they came back, they found out about this and it caused them to become paranoid about AU destroyers, causing them to want to become an more active AU protector.

They created an avatar that they could use for combat and to interact with other AU's, they made so that the AU's they create are connected to their avatar, if they go offline their AU's also go offline alongside them, not allowing anyone to go in or out, and you're physically incapable of entering or leaving in any way, shape or form, not even teleporting is allowed.

Thanks to their paranoia they also made a whole team of AU's protectors just in case, they're clones of characters from the player's AU's and each of them have their own names to differ them from each other, all of the clones are: 3 Undynes, 2 Asgores, 2 papyrus' and 1 recent new member, which is the Sans that they created by accident, the names of the Undynes are: "Vitória, Julia and Anabela." The names of the Asgores are "Hugo and Arthur." And the Papyrus' are "Emanuel and Joseph." And the Sans doesn't have a specific name because he asked to keep the Sans name, this will change later on, but not now.

The clone's original names became their surname, so for example the Asgores are named: "Hugo Asgore Dreemurr" and "Arthur Asgore Dreemurr", this goes for everyone in this team except the player of course.

They're able to shape shift, they use this ability to automatically turn into swap Papyrus every time error sans is in near proximity, or using a portal to watch them. They also use this to express themselves, specially their teeth. Can't wait to show the design when it's ready.

This is it for now, I want to make their design some time, I hope it's easy to make at my current level, because it's very cool what I have in mind.

#undertale #undertale au #utmv #my au #error sans #sans #papyrus #undyne #asgore #player #underswap papyrus

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captn-trex · 6 months ago

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technical devotion, part fifteen: promises made

a/n: I think I'm gonna start aiming to get a chapter of this out every thursday roughly. I have everything planned out apart from how it's gonna end lmao, but rest assured, it shall be happy. I'm looking forward to you guys seeing what's in store! also, I did not realise how slow burn this would be lol, we're still a way off from first kiss territory, buuuuut... this chapter is one I've been waiting to write since the beginning ! hope you enjoy it (sorry for the long a/n)

warnings: injury & pain (not in any great detail) insecure echo :/

last chapter | next chapter | master list | join the taglist

In the weeks following Kan and Echo rekindling their friendship, Kan slowly began to get a grasp on her new role in the ranks, which was mainly because Echo was now there to support her. He was there to remind her not to let her worries overtake her, and a hand on her arm, or an encouraging smile, usually did the trick. Echo's presence calmed her in an instant, and the task of leading didn't seem as daunting with him around. Not that it was always so simple.

Kan stepped out of the command room, rubbing a hand over her face and sighing deeply. Echo was quick to notice as he exited behind her.

“Have you been sleeping?” He asked, stopping her in the corridor.

“I've been sleeping fine yeah, its just… My mind. My mind is tired” She admitted.

“What's wrong?” Echo frowned.

Kan exhaled a long breath, “I really don't know if I'm meant to lead people. It's really outside of my comfort zone even now, and it's just got my brain going into overdrive. I can't stop thinking about… What if something really bad happened under my watch? Or because of a decision I made? I don't think I could cope Echo”

Echo's expression softened the more Kan spoke, a silent admiration of her showing on his features. He placed his hands on her shoulders, something he noted that helped to ground her and gain her focus entirely.

“M'aira, you're doing a great job, and you'll continue to. Rex wouldn't choose you for this if he didn't think you could do it or handle it, and if it means anything to you, I believe in you too”

Kan let a shy smile lift the edges of her lips, “Thanks, it means a lot yeah”

Echo returned her smile, “Now, come with me, I have a small surprise for you”

“You do?” Kan looked up at him with slightly widened eyes.

“It's nothing special” He said as he took his hands away from her shoulders and began walking towards her office, “I just figured that since you seem to insist on sleeping in your office every night…”

Echo opened the door, showing his handiwork to Kan.

“…That having your bunk in here might be the way to go. That way I can stop worrying about you as well”

Kan grinned up at the clone, wrapping her arms around his waist and giving him a quick tight squeeze, “Thank you Echo, you're too kind to me”

Echo shook his head with a smile, resisting the urge to pull Kan back towards him, “Not really, if I was kind I would have tidied up in here too”

Kan looked around her office, still messy as ever. It seemed that Echo had just pushed the worst of the mess aside to make room for the bed.

“It's fine, I don't mind it like this anyway, the mess doesn't really bother me” She shrugged.

Echo huffed a small laugh, “I don't think I could cope if my office was this messy”

Kan hummed thoughtfully, her eyes darting across the mess.

“When do you leave for your mission?” Kan asked, looking back up into his honey eyes.

“We leave early tomorrow morning” Echo gave a sad smile.

“So I won't see you before you go?” Kan questioned, and Echo shook his head. Kan chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, “I wish I was going with you”

Echo could feel the words tugging at his heart, “I don't”

Kan gave him a stern look, her eyebrows drawn together.

He chuckled, “You can't get hurt if you don't go at all”

“You think I can't handle myself?” Kan asked, minorly offended but mostly confused.

“Oh I know you can, I‘m just happier knowing you're safe” Echo confessed, and he could feel his cheeks heating at the slightly vulnerable admission.

Kan just huffed, “Well it doesn't get much more safe than sitting around in the base all day”

“You'll get your chance to go into the field again, don't worry” He assured, a hand on her shoulder.

Kan smiled. Her eyes didn't meet his for a few seconds, but when they did he could tell there was a certain sadness laced within the gentle expression.

“Be safe, yeah?” She urged quietly.

Echo smiled softly, the edges of his eyes crinkling, “I will”

Without warning and much thought of her own, Kan wrapped her arms around Echo again, more tenderly this time. Echo could feel his heart beating out of his chest as he gently wrapped her in his own arms, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

In the past weeks, Kan had become more physically comfortable around Echo, and though he enjoyed it thoroughly, it was still always a little startling. Especially with a touch so gentle and tender as the hug she was currently giving him, it was hard to not be overwhelmed.

“Don't do anything stupid. Don't get yourself hurt” Kan spoke into his chest, and he was certain she could hear how furiously his heart was beating.

“I won't” He replied, hugging her tighter into his body to reassure her, “I promise”

Kan nodded along, listening intently as Rex detailed the upcoming mission. She was a little disappointed to not seem to be going on this mission, as they were going to be infiltrating the base that she had discovered through listening in on the Empire's long range comms. It was a dangerous job, they knew nothing about what this prison would be like once they were in, but that was the reason they were set on going. There were clones being imprisoned there, and they wanted to know why.

“Now, while all that is going on, me and Kan will be on a separate directive, looking to garner any information about this prison” Rex continued, and Kan's ears perked up, her posture straightening at the mention of her.

Rex hadn't discussed this with her before, but she was more than happy to do it, particularly with him.

“That's the plan as of now, but we'll have to wait until more men are back here to enact it” Rex moved away from the central holotable and crossed his arms, “I suggest getting some good rest tonight, they could be back at any time and I want to get this done as soon as possible”

Rex dismissed the clones, and Kan was immediately at his side.

“Rex, about the-”

“Sorry to spring that on you, I was hoping to speak with you earlier but your door was locked” Rex explained.

“Ah right, yeah, I was… tidying”

“Tidying?” Rex raised an eyebrow, a small smirk quirking his lips.

“Yeah, anyway, I wanted to ask you-”

Kan didn't get the chance to finish her question as the door to the command centre zipped open and her focus was drawn towards it. She did a double take, the sight she took in not registering in her mind at first.

It was Echo. He was back from his mission, but something was wrong. His form was alarmingly straight and rigid, his forearm resting against the door frame and holding him up. Each small movement sent a twitch to his face, his teeth clenched and eyes squeezed shut, nostrils flared.

Kan's heart leapt to her throat, and she rushed over to him.

“What happened?” She spoke hurriedly, paying no mind to the other clones around them who watched on.

Echo exhaled shakily, “Got… shot, in the back”

Kan tried so desperately to remain calm despite the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. She turned to look at Rex over her shoulder, hoping for some kind of support.

“We haven’t got a proper medic” He said, clearly shaken by his brother's condition.

That snapped Kan into gear, “I've got medical training, I've got it”

Kan took Echo's arm and threw it over her shoulder, pulling a pained groan from him. She quickly led him to her office, which was only just down the hall, and smacked the door panel in a frantic hurry. She set him down on the bed gently and instantly went about rooting around in the draws of her desk looking for her medkit. When she had found it, she looked up at Echo, who was trying to take off his armour, and failing as his wound cried out in pain.

“Stop, let me do it” Kan spoke instantly, standing in front of him and shooing his hands away.

Her fingers got working on the clasps, starting with his arms and working her way up, exactly as Echo did it.

“How do you know how to do this?” He asked, fighting through his pain.

“I've watched you do it enough times” Kan replied, a small shrug in her shoulders as she focused. Echo would've smirked but his chest plate dug into his wound as she took it off. “Sorry” She whispered.

“S'fine” Echo managed to hiss out as Kan climbed over the bed to sit behind him cross-legged. She tried to survey the damage, to see how bad it really was, but to no avail.

“Could you take this off?” Kan asked, her fingers playing with the hem of his blacks.

If it was possible, Echo’s body seized up even more. He nervously fidgeted his own fingers along the hem, letting out an exasperated huff. His blaster wound was sending small shocks through his body with every movement, but he was single-mindedly focused on not letting Kan take off his top.

Kan noted his discomfort immediately, and let out a sigh.

“Echo” She spoke so gently from behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder, “It's okay, please let me help you”

Echo relented with a slump of his shoulders, “Okay”

Kan helped to peel off the tight base layer, several pained noises escaping the man she was helping. As she saw the wound, she couldn't help but suck a sharp breath between her teeth. Three blaster bolts scorched into his lower back, creating a cluster of open wounds.

Echo assumed her reaction was to seeing the cybernetic attachments he had in his back. His breath was shaky as he tried to calm himself, but it only became more unstable as Kan traced around the outside of his wound.

“I told you to be safe Echo” She whispered, “You promised not to get hurt”

She sounded so solemn, and Echo couldn't find it in himself to say anything. Thankfully, she then got to work on the wound, but it wasn't without discomfort. She first administered a pain relief injection, and his breath caught in his throat as she cupped the side of his neck to do so. She warned him every time she was going to touch him, the antiseptic wipe against his wound making him flinch and grunt more than he wished, stinging even with the pain relief. She placed a bacta patch over the area when she had cleaned it appropriately, and it stung for just a second before the bacta started working it's magic.

“Does that feel better?” She asked quietly, and Echo just nodded

Kan ran her fingers along the edge of the metal apparatus that climbed up his back, causing Echo to shudder under her touch. The feeling of it was so intimate, yet so tainted by sadness and clouded by self-concious thoughts that Echo couldn't focus on the warmth of Kan's fingers against his bare back.

“You're lucky, they almost hit your spine” She spoke, sounding resoundingly serious.

Echo could only hang his head. He felt so ashamed. He had worked hard to get past this mindset, but with the woman he desired like no other sitting behind him and inspecting the damage done to his body, he couldn't help it.

Kan could understand a little of what Echo was thinking, she just hoped she was wrong. She slid from behind him and knelt in front of him on the floor, but he wouldn't look at her.

“Echo” She said as gently as she could, placing a hand on his knee, “I'm glad you're okay”

Echo looked up to her, and the emotions she saw swimming in his eyes were almost enough to bring her to tears.

“What can I say to make you feel better?” She asked in a whisper, for fear that speaking louder would cause him to break.

“There's nothing to say” He said firmly, looking down to his lap.

Kan couldn't help but reach out. She placed a hand on his face, lightly rubbing her thumb along his cheekbone.

“Please talk to me” She pleaded.

After a moment of painful silence, Echo sighed, “I don't show people my cybernetics for a reason”

“Echo it's okay-”

“But it's not” He frowned, his eyes snapping to Kan’s once more. “It's not okay. The attachments, they- they're not exactly desirable, and no one wants someone with all… this. I-” He puffed out a sad breath, the next admission feeling daunting, “It makes me feel like I'm half a man”

Kan's heart broke.

“That's not true” She said sternly, both hands now on his cheeks, forcing him to pay attention to her words, “You're every bit of a man as any other, and even more than that, you're a good man Echo. Anyone would be lucky to have you”

“Anyone?” Echo asked, a hopeful look in his eyes.

Kan wasn't really sure what he was asking. Was he asking because he just wanted confirmation that she was telling the truth? Or was it something more? She weighed her options of what to say, biting into her bottom lip with her eyebrows pinched. She couldn't just admit to her affections for him right now if that wasn't what he was after.

Instead, she took her hands away from his face, sitting back of her heels with a shy look on her face, “Yes, anyone”

Kan stood up and grabbed the medkit, taking it back over to the desk and placing it in the draw.

“You stay here tonight, I'll take your bunk” She said, turning around to meet Echo's intense gaze once more.

“No, I'm fine, I'll-” He was interrupted by his own sharp intake of breath as he tried to stand.

Kan smiled at him knowingly and walked over, placing her hands on his shoulder to keep him rooted to the bed.

“Please, stay here” She insisted.

She found herself lost in Echo's eyes. So many emotions were flitting through them and she couldn't keep track. She absent-mindedly began rubbing her thumb along his bare collarbone, before she realised what she was doing and pulled away.

“I'll see you tomorrow” She nodded to him, leaving quickly and shutting the door behind her.

Echo let out a breath that he didn't realise he was holding and laid back on the bed. His mind was full to the brim with every thought he’d had about Kan since meeting her.

Her distinct scent enveloped him as he crawled into her bunk. He inhaled deeply, letting it take him over and overpower him, washing away his troubled thoughts, and eventually letting it lull him into a peaceful sleep.

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milogoestogreendale · 2 years ago

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trobed fic recs?

i take my job as an armchair tumblr connoiseur of trobed content way too seriously so here's my giant masterlist of all my favorite trobed fanfics. i didn't cross check this with any previous lists so there may be some overlap but this one is more extensive and will include some older fics. also if it's not listed here that doesn't mean i don't love it, these are just the ones i specifically remembered to write about. please send the authors some love if you have the time to check their works out!

also i did go through all 87 pages of content on the troy barnes/abed nadir tag in order to find some of these. no, i haven't read them all, but i have read most of them.

fitter, happier, more productive by Toft: i've reread this fic so many times and i regularly forget it's over a decade old. if you haven't read any older trobed fics you are absolutely missing out

Advanced Cohert Dating by Aria: classic trobed fic, so cute and in character

Beginner's Relationship Detecting by KlavierWrites: in quite a similar vein to the last one, but i like both!

Fundamentals of Self-Awareness by Rainbowcat: a great lighthearted read, it's one of the most popular trobed fics for a reason.

Homosexuality and Homosociality in Queer Cinema by ama: this might be the first trobed fic i ever read? still so good and a must read for any gay troy barnes truthers

Annie, Abed and the Long Con by callmealvinandthechipmunks: know i've talked about this one before but it's just so great. the shrack plotline is genuinely one of the most canon things i've ever seen written for greendale

Introduction to Unconscious Bias by theimprobable1: i'm a sucker for the trope of troy thinking hes homophobic when he's actually just gay for abed

cardiovascular endurance and the art of recovery by clonetrobed: you guys know i love my abed h/c especially when it's to do with abed's bullying.

His Innermost Thoughts by LeetSpeak: my favorite trobed high school au, definitely inspired me while i was writing mine!

My Angel by orphan_account: trobed ghost fic that did make me genuinely sob

never could be sweeter by clonetrobed: this fic is just straight up a work of art.

Advanced Emotional Reconciliation and Anti-Clone Catharsis by Luuuna03: been a minute since i read this one but it's a great multi chapter reunion fic!

Fits Like A Glove by human_tennis_elbow: super cute trobed proposal!!

just you and i tonight (why don't you figure my heart out?) by r3medialcha8s: the day r3medialcha8s starting posting on a03... you just had to be there. their impact

the things we don't write in our autobiographies by fffggghhh: similarly to prev, the fic that put user troybarnesbabygirlconfirmed on my roster. god bless my insanely talented mutuals

Assignment Extension Rejected by ChrisSucks: speaking of talented mutuals this fic is criminally underrated

when it comes to a lot of the authors on this list i could put like every single fic they've have ever written, and there's so much i didn't get to, but this post took me ages so im gonna call it done.

#community #community nbc #abed nadir #troy barnes #trobed #community fanfic

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frostycatblr-fandom-files · 1 year ago

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Prompt 10 with either Fives or a clone of your choice from @the-bad-batch-baroness list of prompts? 👉👈

The Long Way Home [Fives x Reader]

Prompt ten: "Did you feel that?" "Feel what?" "It's starting to rain."

List of all prompts found here [X]. Prompt will be highlighted in blue.

Warnings and Information: Wanting a taste of domesticity the moment he gets shore leave, Fives wants to spend the day with you doing general couple-ly things. A little shopping at the early winter markets of Coruscant, and utilizing every excuse to shower you in all the compliments he can to make up for lost time. When the weather has other ideas regarding your shared plans for the day, Fives is determined to make the best of a less than ideal situation.

This is a general fluff + relationship fic at its core; friendly for all ages this go-round. Reader written with fem!reader in mind, not described save for minor notes about clothing and briefly implied (but not specified) height difference. Fives being a sweetheart. Sprinkling of Mando’a as a treat. As an additional treat, Order 66? Don't know her; Palpatine died and the Republic won the war. 🩷 2nd person POV.

Word-count: 5,912

There's a knock at the front door of your residence, one you've been eagerly expecting most of the morning. You're quick to reach the door, keying him in so he can step inside where it's warm. He's late; which he had warned you about well in advance. And the first thing he offers before his usual hellos is an apology.

A well-practiced one at that, from the warm cadence of his voice, brimming with just the right amount of shame.

“I'm so sorry to keep you waiting, mesh'la, I-”

You tug him close with the collar of his civilian wear (a thick, handmade sweater given to him by Hardcase who had recently taken up knitting since breaking one of his legs - so you're certain to handle it delicately) in a very practiced motion. As expected, it shuts him up just long enough to get a word in while he puts himself nose to nose with you. Practically close enough to taste the words on the others’ lips. “Hey. It's okay Fives. I understand the captain probably needed your help with something, or, you volunteered yourself to help. Again.” Your partner with his well-groomed goatee has a penchant for stepping up and lending a hand to a brother in need, brave and dependable to the end.

Full lips dart apart, the tender flesh brushing over your own lips being this close is nigh impossible to avoid. “Are you teasing or expecting an answer?” Fives asks, hinting to his building confusion below a toothy grin. “Makin’ it hard to tell what you want when I can’t see all of your pretty face.”

That's fair of him to say, you should suppose. “Mostly teasing,” you promise him, at last permitting yourselves to kiss one another as part of the process - brief, chaste, sweet. “You know I wouldn't press you for details if it was classified ARC business.” You never have. Never will until you know the mission has been completed at least; because while you often burn with questions (as is only natural and expected in what was once a friendship, now a partnership) pertaining to his duties and practiced protocols within the GAR, you take the mantra “loose lips sink starships” very close to heart.

Should you ever say something that could jeopardize the safety of the one you love, you’d never forgive yourself.

“No, not ARC business,” Fives offers at last, “I, uh… I told you I was gonna be running late because some of my brothers asked for my help with something kinda last minute.” The palm of his left hand strokes the back of his neck in a self-soothing fashion, a tell of either embarrassment or shame. “I couldn’t bring myself to say no…”

“Young brothers?”

Fives only answers with a nod and an appeasing smile, knowing where this is going.

“Star-struck little brothers wanting to ask what’s it like being an ARC trooper, and how they can train to be just like you?” you muse, exaggerating your train of thought with a couple of taps against your chin with the finger of your non-dominant hand, the other arm wrapped across your body.

It does not slip your notice how his tanned face begins to look a little flushed when you playfully bat your eyes at him for good measure, knowing what that kind of praise does to him combined with the light teasing.

“More or less…”

You giggle, not at him or at his expense, but more the mental image than anything. You can picture Fives, being as eager as he was to come see you now that he had shore leave, getting roped into regaling doe-eyed Clones with lengthy recountings of his service since becoming an ARC. All he wanted to do was peruse the early winter markets with you, the entire idea his from the start; and there he was, at least an hour of his precious free time used up already. All because he was too much of a selfless and wholeheartedly good person for his own good, on occasion.

“I’m sure they appreciated you and Echo doing that.” Fives doesn’t have to mention his surviving squadmate, Echo, to know that the other half of the nicknamed Domino Twins had sacrificed his own time to answer a few (or a hundred, more rather) burning questions. “I’m sure the captain did, too.”

The humble grin is confirmation enough for you. You can continue to tease him later, however - you’re both wasting daylight the longer the two of you choose to linger in your comfortable Coruscanti apartment rather than getting the rest of your things ready. Light coats or other appropriate outerwear still needs to be gathered, the credits you’ve been setting aside for this occasion needs to come out of hiding, and he still needs to collect the rest of his civilian-wear he planned on wearing. There’s only so much space within trooper accommodations for everything he’s accumulated since the start of your relationship. Thick-knit hats, fleece-lined gloves, a scarf in 501st blue, things of that nature.

And boots. It’d probably be wise to grab a pair of all-weather boots rather than tromp the markets in your slipper-socks, no matter how tempting the smooth streets would prove.

Fives is ready far sooner than you, owing to how little he needed to add or change into to be more weather-ready, but he waits patiently. No teasing remarks for how long it takes you to disentangle a simple scarf from all the others, or the childlike nature of repeating the phrase that helped you remember how to tie your shoes even to this day, or any of the other silly little habits you comfortably show in front of him. There’s only a warm, endeared smile to be seen. He’s just happy to be here, to be in your presence after so long, and see all these little puzzle pieces into why he loves you as though for the first time, every time.

“What are you staring at?” you ask with a bemused laugh bubbling up from your throat. Time to time, you struggle to figure your partner out, wondering what can be chalked up to his training and what can be passed off as quirks unique to him. You’ve gotten better with time and practice, being able to discern these instances. “What’s on that beautiful mind of yours, Fives?”

“Nothing more than perhaps the most beautiful person in all the galaxy, cyare.” Fives replies in earnest, dazzling you with one of those smiles that had charmed you since the very beginning. “And how I get to spend most of my first day of shore leave with that person, all to myself.”

Torn between scoffing and brushing him off with oh surely you can’t mean the most beautiful person thing and trying to shield your flushing face from view, so certain your cheeks must be scarlet red with all the flattery, you busy yourself with ensuring your door is locked and secure against unwelcome visitors. There’s been a minor rash of break-ins lately, and you know that a simple door lock won’t do anything to deter the truly determined - only the honest - it always seems to get a bit worse just before large deployments get shore leave… funny how that goes.

At least you get a little help when it can be spared by those serving with the Corrie Guard, given your proximity to the senate buildings here. There was no small amount of surprise the day Commander Fox himself turned up at your doorstep to follow-up with a reported break-in for the unit above your own. He could claim he was there just to ask if you happened to notice anything, and nothing more than that, but you knew better. Working in loose relation to the complex goings-on with the Galactic Senate and the red-clad commander turning up only two hours after mentioning the incident to Fives was too big a coincidence to ignore. (You can only wonder what strings in the line of communication your smarty-pants of a boyfriend had to pull in order to get in touch with Commander Fox, directly.)

A smarty-pants that you had all kinds of preconceived plans to spend the rest of the day with, all to yourself.

The ambling walk to the marketplace offers the pair of you plenty of time to catch up since you last spoke on the comms just over two weeks ago; it was a Zhellday if you're not mistaken.

You don't really bring up your work if you can help it; the problems seem so trivial when you compare them to the frustrations of stamping out those stubborn pockets of Separatist resistance Fives and all his brothers have been dealing with since winning the war just a year ago. A malfunctioning caf-machine spraying your last clean work uniform seems like nothing compared to a desperate firefight against the horrifying, mechanical amalgamations the standard CIS battle droids have become as less and less functional droids become available.

You have to ask Fives to be sure you heard him right after he says it. “Hold on: it had eight arms?”

“Some Separatist-sympathizer - one who's, admittedly, crafty but incredibly elusive - has been a real pain in our shebs for a while now. ‘Case was so badly spooked by the crazy-looking clanker that he fell over backwards on a crate full of smuggled produce.” Fives explains, struggling not to laugh when explaining of all possible ways Hardcase recently broke his leg, it was falling over backwards on a box of illegal fruit and veg.

“He’s okay, right?” you prod, “What'd Kix have to say about the break?”

It's touching to Fives when you show your concern for his brothers, knowing you have genuine interest in their well-being. You always have. When you heard that the production of the cloning facilities were coming to an end on Kamino thanks to Chancellor Organa’s new bill, your immediate thought had been for the young cadets who had not yet finished training.

What's going to happen to those little brothers, Fives? All the Clones still developing in the tubes and the nurseries and-

Mesh'la, with any luck, they'll become the envy of the entire GAR. They'll never have to taste war like we have if we squash out the remaining Separatists sooner than later.

Fives gives the cuff to one of the sweater sleeves an experimental tug with a beaming smile. “Kix said the worst of it will be the bed rest for Hardcase. At least he's found a way to keep his hands busy between the physical therapy he has to do, thanks to Dogma.”

“Aww. That was kind of him.” you croon. He mirrors the relieved smile, sharing in your relief that his brother's injury was not as bad as you feared. He begins fishing through one of his pockets for something, saying he has a picture to show you.

“Hardcase made Dogma the ugliest possible blanket using yarn we had scrounged up for him as a way of saying thanks. Thing's got all sorts of colors from baby pink, to brick red, even a smidge of neon yellow somewhere in there.”

Without question, the immaculate bunk within the frame can be none other than Dogma's. Laid out in a uniform manner is a tidily-knit but disorganized rainbow of yarn in every shade of blue and a handful of other colors. (Sure enough, you can pick out the baby pink, the brick red, and the neon yellow Fives previously mentioned.) Honestly, you think it looks ugly only because there's no reason or order to any of the colors. A crisp, sky blue next to the imagined dryness of such a dusty shade of red is a bit jarring, visually.

‘Case was likely working with the colors of yarn as he received them, if his brothers were coming up with loose odds and ends as Fives claims they did.

You voice the question that crosses your mind the more you look at the image in your boyfriend's hand, “Does Dogma actually use the blanket, or is it just for show until it's time to sleep?”

“Wondered that myself.” Fives admits to you with a cheeky wink between thumbing over to the next picture, a still of Dogma tucked under both the GAR-issued blanket and Hardcase’s, “It was so worth pretending to be asleep for forty-five minutes just to get Dogma to go to bed.” Dogma's always been the last to fall asleep within shared accommodations, so for the ARC trooper you're arm-in-arm with to have pulled the oldest trick in the book in order to get to the bottom of a low-stakes mystery, you can only imagine how disciplined you'd have to be to lay so still and silent for that long.

“Why not just ask him in the morning?” you laugh, realizing how simple it would be to do just that rather than go through such efforts to trick someone into going to bed. Fives shrugs noncommittally in response before tucking his personal device away again, now that you're both within earshot of the outdoor winter market.

It's bustling with activity, even for Coruscant. The pressing crowds and all-encompassing noise will make it difficult to carry on catching up in a meaningful manner for much longer.

“Dogma's not much of a talker in the mornings, sweetheart.” Fives says with a chuckle. “Though to be fair, not a lot of us are either.”

Strange… they've always seemed so… talkative and alert whenever you've had early morning communications with Fives. Those bleary-eyed video calls spent simply staring at the other, not too sure what to talk about in particular. The stolen minutes between breakfast in the mess hall and the barracks. (The lunch breaks where you've snuck off somewhere secret and pretended you're sharing the same ration, they've been talkative for certain!) Have you just done a poor job of noticing until now? Or are they better at masking how awake they truly are than you expect? But okay, fair enough.

Now that you were here at the market, you’d be more than a little preoccupied to be thinking about it much longer, with Fives tucking his fingers between yours to prevent both of you from getting separated from the other. It’s rather busy; it must be the morning rush before everyone has to reluctantly shuffle off to work. And you should probably expect to have more than a few elbows - or entirely unaware people - knock into you and Fives while you’re here.

What catches Fives’ eye first is a female Besalisk vendor with armfuls of rain repellers for sale (one for five credits, or two for ten) with a business partner checking news sources for reports on the weather nearby.

“Ah… knew there was something I forgot to check before getting to your apartment.” He says, quickly casting his eyes skyward. Certainly enough, there are rain clouds gradually building overhead. Strange. While it is technically early winter, this time of year typically has a weird, transitional period regarding the weather. Not quite past the sometimes cold and drizzly days of autumn, but still too early to dust off your proper snow coats from where they've been hiding in the back of your closet.

“Let’s get one to be safe.” you suggest with a reassuring squeeze of your hand in his. If you buy one of the repellers and end up never using the thing, then you were over-prepared with little consequence. Having one more thing to carry wouldn’t be that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things, surely. “Hi,” you address the vendor cheerfully, “a repeller for five credits, right?”

“That’s right! Pick whichever one you’d like, dears.” she tells you with a kind wink, thrusting the set of arms bearing all of the rain repellers a little further for your inspection.

Fives wastes little time in selecting a repeller with a sleek and subtle design, something he thinks you’d like, perhaps. He’s incredibly thoughtful in that and many other ways. It’s one of the many parts of him that you ache for in his absence, the fondness for his charisma and slight cheek only deepening when he’s away, aiding in the peacekeeping efforts now that the galaxy is largely free of the Separatists. (How strange that things fell apart so suddenly for them, following shortly after the rather untimely and unexplained death of Sheev Palpatine (that, surely, can’t be related, right?) just last year.) You know he’s not giving up the fight just because they say the Seppies have surrendered, not when there’s still work to be done to make the galaxy safer for everyone.

Fives isn’t still fighting the good fight just for his brothers, but for you too. Every last far-flung outpost they capture, each bubble of resistance they burst, it’s always the same message that finds its way to you, no matter the time and no matter the distance.

For the Republic. For my brothers. For my Kar’ta. Talk to you soon, sweet.

Both of you thank the vendor, and set off on your way, imagining what curiosities and delights could be found by the two of you together on this cold Coruscanti morning here in the intergalactic market. With a cultural hotbed like this - a diverse focal point in the heart of the galaxy with a population of roughly two trillion that is Coruscant - there’s no telling what you and Fives will see, from the familiar to the fascinating.

In a dramatic, sweeping gesture Fives invites you to lead the way into the heart of the market with a dizzying grin, promising to follow wherever you roam.

“After you, angel.”

You’ll only be there for an hour before the increasingly-inclement weather decides to become a little more concerning. Those cotton-soft clouds, planted in the lofty airspace high over even the tallest sentient lifeforms’ head(s), are beginning to appear denser and darker than they were when you set off this morning. Weather reports you peek at while Fives discusses something with a Tatoonine-born vendor suggests you might have another hour before proper rainfall.

“You say the yarn’s a bantha-blend, right?” Fives clarifies, gingerly juggling a few twisted hanks of it in his hands to get a feel for the softness. “Would it work for projects meant for… say, kids?” The vendor’s eyes flick to you, just for a second, and you can imagine what she’s thinking. Your partner catches that too, so Fives clarifies further. “Someone I know had twins last year. Tryin’ to, uh, contribute to a special present for the little ones. Brother of mine got some good yarn from Naboo to represent the mother. I was asked to find something to represent their father while I was here, if I could.”

As could be expected, the yarn-seller is now tittering excitedly about how sweet it is that he and this unspecified brother (who’s definitely either Jesse or Kix) are looking to put together something for this ‘someone they know’ who had twins. Sweet little twins who you’ve happened to see crawling around the floors of the senate building out of the corner of your eye, as a matter of fact. But you’ve been aware of the “open secret” nature of the Skywalker-Amidala twins for some time now, and know you’re supposed to treat it like it’s more of a classified matter than it is in reality.

Yeah, how strange that Senator Amidala and General Skywalker spend a lot of time together. Or that little Luke and Leia show up in the Jedi Temple on occasion, just as a last minute “favor” to the Senator - of course!

“Yes, the yarn should be appropriate for the little ones!” the vendor promises, exchanging the appropriate credits as change from what Fives hands her as payment before gingerly bagging the hanks of bantha-yarn for him. “You’ll find a card with the best care instructions with your purchase inside the bag. Thank you for your business, folks.”

When you've stepped beyond the earshot of the yarn-seller, now again arm-in-arm with Fives as you meander the little sector that seems to be dedicated to all things Tatooine, you feel it's safe to tease.

“You're getting better at lying, Fives.”

“Mesh'la-” Fives warns you.

“Okay, okay… Stretching the truth, if that's what you insist on calling it, mister ARC trooper.” you add.

Fives doubles down on the insistent, close to disapproving tone. “Mesh'la… I've told you several times now, you know why we treat it like a secret.”

“I know, Fives, I was only teasing.” you promise, offering an apologetic expression.

You understand the faux secrecy is largely in relation to the response of some members of the Jedi Council when the inevitable truth about Senator Amidala and not just one child, but two, came to light. There's been a great deal of speculation from the 501st Legion of Anakin Skywalker’s expulsion from the Order; speculation that has them worried. Selfless to the end, the Clones are just as concerned for the fate of their General as they are about their own.

You change the subject as you pass a stall brimming with food-based goods from the Outer Rim planet, a warm, spicy odor cutting through the ambient smell of chilled steel and duracrete surfaces. Looks to be samples of an alteration to bantha steak soup. Something being offered to the market-goers to warm them up as the temperatures fall day by day, or hour by hour.

“Remind me: ever tried any food from Tatooine?”

“Some of it's decent.” Fives admits with a chuckle. “Or, it will at least beat having rations for every meal. But nothing beats your cooking, cyare.”

Your cooking, among many things, is what Fives has been looking forward to most about today, about shore leave. A chance to come home, a chance to catch one another up on the things they’ve missed (things too important or lengthy to say over comms), and a chance for splitting a hearty meal practically invented for sharing with the ones who mean the most to us. Same thing with coming to the market. Fives didn’t want to do a little shopping just to see what was new on Coruscant; he wanted to spend a little time with you away from home first, maybe find something special to buy to mark the occasion.

To be home after so long is a very special thing indeed.

“Hope you’re in the mood for soup tonight.” It’s a little simple, you tell him, but no less comforting or flavorful. “Didn’t know how tired you’d be, when you came home this time.”

“You spoil me.” Fives murmurs lovingly, craning his neck for the moment to plant a sweet, gentle kiss in the crown of your hair and against your temple. His full lips are warm, and where you’ve been kissed seems to glow with that warmth compared to the surrounding chill. “What’d I do to deserve you, kar’ta?”

There’s that word again. Pronounced KARH-ta, as he’s taught you.

It's Mando’a, meaning heart.

“Well, you kept the galaxy safe,” you answer with a sweet smile, “I think that’s a pretty deserving reason, don’t you?”

The warm, heartened smile is all you have to see to know he feels the same way. He helped keep the galaxy safe, yes; of course he should deserve to live a good life with everything said and done. With every bill and law passed towards the betterment of life for Clones after the war, it tastes like the sweetest victory, over and over again. If there was anyone more deserving of thanks, it was the mighty multitude of men who came from Kamino.

As you’re turning the corner of a larger booth within the sprawling outdoor market, Fives mentions that somewhere down the lane he can hear a live performer playing covers of popular songs on what must be a hallikset.

“Must be another one of your little soldier tricks,” you tell him with an impressed shake of your head, “I can’t hear any of that. What’s a hell- hall-? Wait, what did you call it?” How did he pronounce that so easily?

You’re not surprised with many a Clones’ proclivity to be little cultural sponges that Fives seems to have the answer ready for you before you can pull something out of your pocket to search up the instrument he mentioned for yourself. “Halliksets are seven-stringed instruments popular on Naboo. Here, let’s get a little closer.” Fives offers, leading the way ahead to where he hears the music coming from. He wants you to be able to hear it better, to experience it for yourself. Appreciate it fully.

You momentarily pity the player’s poor fingers once you get closer, noting how red with cold they are. Like you, the hallikset’s owner is wrapped in layers between a thick jacket, a gray hood and a long scarf wrapped around their neck. But with the beautiful way they play, plucking and strumming each perfectly tuned string, you wonder if they don't notice, or care. Perhaps the lack of gloves to keep their hands safely warded against the cold is worth it to them for the amount of credits they're pulling in. There's several fistfuls at least, all piled up in the open instrument case.

“Wow… I don't think I've ever seen one before, but it's beautiful; it's a beautiful instrument.” you offer your observation to Fives after spending a few minutes to simply stand and listen to the performer. Buskers, you believe they're called, playing for voluntary donations in public settings.

The busker offers an appreciative grin, playing on smoothly without pausing the performance for even a moment as they bob their head in thanks for your compliment.

“Certainly is, mesh'la.” Fives agrees. He dips a hand into one of his pockets, and adds a couple of credits to the pile in the instrument case. As a way of thanks, the song that was currently being played is masterfully morphed into one of the more familiar military anthems of the Republic, just for a moment.

The performer, a young-looking Twi'lek, has of course recognized that Fives is a Clone, and is hoping to acknowledge what the Republic has done for Ryloth in some small way by playing something a soldier would recognize. Fives is equal parts flattered and amused, even if he himself may never have gone to Ryloth, that he's being thanked and acknowledged like this.

“Heh. You're welcome, kid.”

Putting his free arm around you as you decide to listen to the hallikset a little longer, you and Fives listen to the best recognized music forms of Ryloth start up from the instrument as further homage. You lay your head on your boyfriend's shoulder, leaning into his side a little deeper with a placid smile, drinking in this moment.

Close to an hour later, when more yarn for Hardcase, a few decorative knick knacks for your apartment, and some novelty sweets have ended up among your purchases, someone’s stomach rumbles in complaint shortly before the time you would typically consider having lunch. Luckily Echo has offered to help you locate something by sending you a file to a map of the market with all consumables stalls highlighted and labeled after checking in on how things are going for you and Fives.

While Fives quickly speaks with his brother and squadmate, you check the weather. Steadily, it’s only gotten colder, and in efforts to keep you warmer, Fives has sweetly given up his thick-knit hat for the time being until you come across another stall that offers cold-weather wear. There, he’ll find another hat for himself, suggesting you keep his. The fluffy curls of his clone-standard crew cut have been flattened a bit by the hat, amusingly. As a sweet gesture, you try to fix up his hair for him while listening to what Echo has to say.

Force willing, as it’s only becoming more and more likely that it'll rain, that will be after you grab a quick bite to eat.

(Pantoran food sounds good right about now.)

“Me? Oh, all was quiet on the homefront - busy playing a strategy game against Rex. Until we got ambushed by a couple of giggling womp rats.”

Fives grins like a nexu. “Brothers’ kids or the General’s?”

“Tup’s little boys,” Echo answers jovially between peals of bubbling laughter in the background, “things are getting a bit rowdy here, so you two better go. Enjoy your lunch and the rest of the market; I’ll tell everyone you both said hi.”

“Thanks Echo.”

“We’ll talk later, Echo.” you promise. “Also, I’m keeping your brother all to myself tonight.” Echo’s laugh promises that’s fine by him. He trusts you’ll take good care of Fives, like he takes good care of you in turn. He’ll pass along the information that everyone will see Fives again the following morning. The Clone with the Aurebesh ‘5’ permanently inked on his right temple can only offer an eager smile.

A homemade meal and the promise of staying the night when it wasn’t previously discussed? What better way to end a day than that? Fives walks with a spirited spring in his step, just short of tugging you along after him at first before you match his pace and revel in that excitement together.

Excitement that quickly turns to surprise with the first of the rain starting to fall over the market. There’s a particularly heavy raindrop that lands with an audible spatter on Fives’ left shoulder. He chuckles, the sound somewhere between an amused ‘of course…’ and a nervous ‘uh-oh’. He’s patting down his deep pockets for wherever he’s stashed the rain repeller purchased earlier, since it could very well start raining steadily by the time you reach one of the food stalls that peddles any Pantoran cuisine.

“Did you feel that?” he asks, eyes flicking skyward between some of the many imposing, glinting skyscrapers that make up the surface of the ecumenopolis. It’s a small relief that you’re not quite out in the open, like you would be if the market had taken place in a location like Monument Plaza, at the least. If the rain got intense, fast, Fives could easily squeeze the pair of you into a dry alcove somewhere in the absence of the repeller now in his hands.

“Hm? Feel what?” you wonder just before you feel another droplet glance off your own coat. “Oh.”

So much for getting lunch…

“It’s starting to rain.” the two of you say at once. And while it’s not quite sleet, it certainly feels close to it every time the stray droplet finds a patch of exposed skin. The idle prattle of buyers and sellers shifts in tone; a few surprised shouts here and there while vendors urgently cover their wares, and a few shoppers brushing past panickedly exclaim that they’re faced with taking the long way home because of street-closures tied to the event-space.

Thankfully that won’t be the case for you and Fives with the direction you came from your apartment, so long as the dispersing crowds allow.

Opening the repeller, Fivers now pulls you closer, trying to fit it over both of you best he can. “Here, mesh’la. Wouldn’t want you to get cold and wet… That wouldn’t be a very pleasant combination, now would it?”

“No,” you agree with a little wag of your head, “buuuut, heading back to my apartment and calling in an order for delivery sure does.”

Fives brings up an excellent suggestion while you busy yourself with making sure all your purchases are safely in your arms before the pair of you about-face and make for home. “With a movie to watch, too, right?” Oh Maker, there are so many films you could choose from to watch; there’s always something new that you learn your beloved hasn’t seen, being so wrapped up in the pan-galactic war and its aftermath. Even films you don’t particularly care for become tolerable when you’re snuggled on some comfortable two-seater together, your head planted against his chest as he runs his hands through your hair in idle fashion.

You’re wholeheartedly in support, already impatient to burrow into that large, fluffy blanket with him.

Cupping his face in one hand, you kiss his cheek best you can as you walk, copying his deliberate stride. “That sounds like a great idea, Fives.” It’s kind of a shame that the weather put a bit of a damper on how long you had in mind about spending at the market, you add with a soft sigh.

He smiles, encouraging you not to let it get you down. “Not gonna let a little rain ruin my first day of shore leave, so long as I get to spend it with you, ner kar’ta.” Fives promises, being his sweet, joking self by downplaying the amount of rain. It’s gotten past ‘just a little rain’ at this point in time, with puddles forming atop the duracrete surfaces, some with multi-color veneers to them where the oils previously soaked into the street float to the top.

As the freezing rain builds in strength, it patters and trickles off the rain repeller in thick rivulets while Fives holds it over each of your heads - it’s kind of a tight fit underneath, but neither mind. Making sure both of you and your purchases remain relatively dry means it’s a slow, steady march back home. It’s probably taking you twice as long to get back home than it was to get there. You could be taking some long, convoluted path, and you wouldn’t mind a bit with the way Fives has one of his arms so lovingly, kindly wrapped around the small of your back, both to hold you close, and to make sure you hear him when he talks.

“I’ve got a few stories to tell from this last deployment, besides ‘Case breaking his leg.” he starts, a note of mirth in his tone. “But there was one thing I kept thinking about, more than anything.” Fives adds, the slow cadence suggesting this is important.

Before you permit your mind to race with the possibilities, the many guesses you have, you bob your head, encouraging him to go on.

“I’m listening.”

He wastes no time, sure of his words, but maybe not how to say them. “I wanted to ask if maybe now’s a good time to… Y’know. We might start thinking about a couple of things, now that the war’s over, and things are getting safer…?” You could practically swoon, knowing what he’s trying to tell you. What he’s thought about while he’s been deployed with those who’ve chosen to remain in service to the GAR for just a little longer, aiming to finish the job they’d been made for.

For the Republic. For his brothers.

For you, his heart.

How would you feel about spending the rest of our lives together, cyare?

“Sounds like a good conversation to have over dinner.” is all you’ll suggest for the time being, bringing his face close once more for another caste kiss with the door of your apartment in sight.

If you’d known he’d had this on his mind just a little sooner, or there was no premature rainfall to dampen your plans, maybe you would have suggested taking the long way home after all, just for the fun of it.

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